FAMOUS   MEN 


OF 


ANCIENT  TIMES:  . 


.  BY  T^^  AUTHOR  .OF 


PETER    PARLEY'S    TALES. 


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Ufl^ 


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U2TIVERy!TT7 


BOSTON: 
BRADBURY,    SODEN    &    CO. 

MDCCCXLIII. 


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STEREOTYPED  BY 

GEORGE   A.  CURTIS, 

N.  ENGLAND  TYPE  AND  STEREOTYPE  FOUNDRY,  BOSTON. 


^    I 


PREFACE. 

The  reader  of  these  pages  will  perhaps  remark,  that 
the  length  of  the  following  sketches  is  hardly  proportioned 
to  the  relative  importance  of  the  several  subjects,  regarded 
in  a  merely  historical  point  of  view.  In  explanation  of  this 
fact,  the  author  begs  leave  to  say,  that,  while  he  intended  to 
present  a  series  of  the  great  beacon  lights  that  shine  along 
the  shores  of  the  past,  and  thus  throw  a  continuous  gleam 
over  the  dusky  sea  of  ancient  history, — he  had  still  other 
views.  His  chief  aim  is  moral  culture ;  and  the  several 
articles  have  been  abridged  or  extended,  as  this  control- 
ling purpose  might  be  subserved. 

It  may  be  proper  to  make  one  observation  more.  If  the 
author  has  been  somewhat  more  chary  of  his  eulogies  upon 
the  great  men  that  figure  in  the  pages  of  Grecian  and  Roman 
story,  than  is  the  established  custom,  he  has  only  to  plead  in 
his  vindication,  that  he  has  viewed  them  in  the  same  light — 
weighed  them  in  the  same  balance — measured  them  by  the 
same  standard,  as  he  should  have  done  the  more  familiar  char- 
acters of  our  own  day,  making  due  allowance  for  the  times 
and  circumstances  in  which  they  acted.  He  has  stated  the 
results  of  such  a  mode  of  appreciation ;  yet  if  the  master 


IV 


PREFACE. 


spirits  of  antiquity  are  thus  shorn  of  some  portion  of  their 
glory,  the  writer  still  believes  that  the  interest  they  excite  is 
not  lessened,  and  that  the  instruction  they  afford  is  not 
diminished.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  him  that  the 
study  of  ancient  biography,  if  it  be  impartial  and  discrim- 
inating, is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  and  useful  to  which 
the  mind  can  be  applied. 


C  0  IS*  TENTS 


Mohammed, 

Belisarius, 

Attila,  . 

Nero,     . 

Seneca,  . 

Virgil,  . 

Cicero,   . 

Julius  Cjesar, 

Hannibal, 

Alexander, 

Aristotle, 

Demosthenes, 

Apelles, 

Diogenes, 

Plato,    . 

Socrates, 

Alcieiades, 

Democritus, 

Pericles, 


page 

7 

25 

60 

68 

74 

83 

95 

130 

145 

157 

183 

197 

209 

213 

218 

229 

244 

252 

256 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

AristideS; 261 

jEsop, 264 

Solon, 271 

Lycurgus, 277 

Homer, .        .  282 

Confucius, 291 


FAMOUS  MEN  OF  ANCIENT  TIMES. 


MOHAMMED. 

This  individual,  who  has  exercised  a  greater  influ- 
ence upon  the  opinions  of  mankind  than  any  other 
human  being,  save,  perhaps,  the  Chinese  philosopher, 
Confucius,  was  born  at  Mecca,  in  Arabia,  A.  D.  570. 
He  was  the  only  son  of  Abdallah,  of  the  noble  b'ne 
of  Hashem  and  tribe  of  Koreish — descendants  of  Ish- 
mael,  the  reputed  progenitor  of  the  Arabian  race. 


8  MOHAMMED. 

The  Koreishites  were  not  only  a  commercial  people, 
and  rich  by  virtue  of  their  operations  in  trade,  but 
they  were  the  hereditary  guardians  of  the  Caaba,  or 
Kaaba,  a  heathen  temple  at  Mecca.  The  custody  of 
this  sacred  place,  together  with  all  the  priestly  offices, 
belonged  to  the  ancestors  of  Mohammed. 

The  Mohammedan  authors  have  embellished  the 
birth  of  the  prophet  with  a  great  variety  of  wonderful 
events,  which  are  said  to  have  attended  his  introduc- 
tion into  the  world,  One  of  these  is,  that  the  Persian 
sacred  fire,  kept  in  their  temples,  was  at  once  extin- 
guished over  all  Arabia,  accompanied  by  the  diffusion 
of  an  unwonted  and  beautiful  light.  But  this  and 
other  marvels,  we  leave  to  the  credulity  of  the  proph- 
et's followers. 

Mohammed's  father  died  early,  and  his  son  came 
under  the  guardianship  of  his  uncle,  Abu  Taleb.  He 
was  a  rich  merchant,  who  was  accustomed  to  visit 
the  fairs  of  Damascus,  Bagdad,  and  Bassora — three 
great  and  splendid  cities,  and  Mohammed  often  accom- 
panied him  to  these  places.  In  his  twelfth  year, 
Mohammed  took  part  in  an  expedition  against  the 
wandering  tribes  that  molested  the  trading  caravans. 
Thus,  by  travelling  from  place  to  place,  he  acquired 
extensive  knowledge,  and,  by  being  engaged  in  war- 
like enterprise,  his  imagination  became  inflamed  with 
a  love  of  adventure  and  military  achievements.  If 
we  add  to  this,  that  he  had  naturally  a  love  of  soli- 
tude, with  a  constitutional  tendency  to  religious  ab- 
straction ;  and  if,  moreover,  we  consider  that  in  his 
childhood  he  had  been  accustomed  to  behold  the  wild 
exercises,  the  dark  ceremonies,  and  hideous  rites  of 


MOHAMMED.  9 

the  temple  of  Caaba — we  shall  at  once  see  the  elements 
of  character,  and  the  educational  circumstances,  which 
shaped  out  the  extraordinary  career  of  the  founder  of 
Islamism. 

It  appears  that  Mohammed  was  remarkable  for 
mental  endowments,  even  in  his  youth,  for,  in  a  reli- 
gious conversation  with  a  Nestorian  monk,  at  Basra, 
he  showed  such  knowledge  and  talent,  that  the  monk 
remarked  to  his  uncle,  that  great  things  might  be 
expected  of  him.  He  was,  however,  attentive  to  busi- 
ness, and  so  completely  obtained  the  confidence  of  his 
uncle,  as  a  merchant,  that  he  was  recommended  as  a 
prudent  and  faithful  young  man,  to  Khadijah,  a  rich 
widow,  who  stood  in  need  of  an  agent  to  transact  her 
business  and  manage  her  affairs.  In  this  capacity 
he  was  received,  and  so  well  did  he  discharge  his 
duties,  that  he  not  only  won  the  confidence  of  the 
widow,  but  finally  obtained  her  hand  in  marriage. 
This  event  took  place  when  he  was  about  twenty-five 
years  old,  Khadijah  being  almost  forty. 

Mohammed  was  now  rich,  and,  though  he  contin- 
ued to  carry  on  mercantile  business,  he  often  retired 
to  a  cave,  called  Heva,  near  Mecca,  where  he  resided. 
He  also  performed  several  journeys  to  different  parts 
of  Arabia  and  Syria,  taking  particular  pains  to  gather 
religious  information,  especially  of  learned  Jews  and 
Christians. 

For  some  time,  Mohammed,  who  lived  happily 
with  his  wife,  confided  to  her  his  visits  to  the  cave 
Heva,  professing  to  enjoy  interviews  with  Heaven 
there,  by  means  of  dreams  and  trances,  in  which  he 
met  and  conversed  with  the  ansfel  Gabriel.    There  is 


10  MOHAMMED. 

little  doubt  that  his  habits  of  religious  retirement  and 
gloomy  reflection  had  unsettled  his  judgment,  and  that 
he  now  gave  himself  up  to  the  guidance  of  an  over- 
wrought fancy.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  he 
believed  these  visions  to  be  of  divine  inspiration; 
else,  why  should  he  first  communicate  them,  as  reali- 
ties, to  his  wife  ? 

Soon  after  this,  he  informed  other  members  of  his 
family  of  his  visions,  and,  being  now  about  forty  years 
old,  assumed  with  them,  the  character  and  profession 
of  a  prophet.  Several  of  his  friends,  particularly  his 
wife,  and  his  cousin  Ali,  a  young  man  of  great  energy 
of  character,  yielded  to  the  evidence  he  gave  of  his 
divine  mission.  Having  been  silently  occupied  about 
three  years  in  converting  his  nearest  friends,  he  invi- 
ted some  of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  the  family  of 
Hashem  to  his  house,  and,  after  conjuring  them  to 
abandon  their  idolatry,  for  the  worship  of  One  God, 
he  openly  proclaimed  his  calling,  and  set  forth,  that, 
by  the  commands  of  Heaven,  revealed  through  the 
angel  Gabriel,  he  was  prepared  to  impart  to  his  coun- 
trymen the  most  precious  gift — the  only  means  of 
future  salvation. 

Far  from  being  convinced,  the  assembly  was  struck 
silent  with  mingled  surprise  and  contempt.  The 
young  and  enthusiastic  Ali,  alone,  yielded  to  his  pre- 
tences, and,  falling  at  his  feet,  offered  to  attend  him, 
in  good  or  evil,  for  life  or  for  death.  Several  of  the 
more  sober  part  of  the  assembly  sought  to  dissuade 
Mohammed  from  his  enterprise ;  but  he  replied  with 
a  lofty  fervor,  that  if  the  sun  were  placed  in  his  right 
hand,  and  the  moon  in  his  left,  with  power  over  the 


MOHAMMED.  11 

kingdoms  they  enlighten,  he  would  not,  should  not, 
could  not  hesitate  or  waver  in  his  course. 

Inflamed  by  the  opposition  he  met  with  among 
this  assembly,  Mohammed  now  went  forth,  and,  wher- 
ever he  could  find  crowds  of  people,  there  he  an- 
nounced his  mission.  In  the  temples,  in  the  public 
squares,  streets,  and  market-places,  he  addressed  the 
people,  laying  claim  to  the  prophetic  character,  and 
setting  forth  the  duty  of  rejecting  idolatry,  for  the 
worship  of  one  God.  The  people  were  struck  with 
his  eloquence,  hi*s  majesty  of  person,  the  beautiful 
imagery  he  presented  to  their  minds,  and  the  sublime 
sentiments  he  promulgated.  Even  the  poet  Lebid  is 
said  to  have  been  converted  by  the  wonderful  beauty 
and  elevation  of  the  thoughts  poured  forth  by  the  pro- 
fessed prophet.  The  people  listened,  and,  though 
they  felt  the  fire  of  his  eloquence,  still  they  were  so 
wedded  to  their  idolatries,  that  few  were  yet  disposed 
to  join  him. 

To  aid  in  understanding  the  revolution  wrought  by 
Mohammed,  it  may  be  well  to  sketch  the  condition 
of  the  Arabians  at  that  period.  The  original  inhabi- 
tants of  Arabia,  though  all  of  one  stock,  and  occupy- 
ing a  peninsula  1200  miles  in  length  by  700  in  width, 
had  been,  from  time  immemorial,  divided  into  a  vari- 
ety of  distinct  tribes.  These  constituted  petty  com- 
munities or  states,  which,  often  changing,  still  left  the 
people  essentially  the  same.  In  the  more  elevated 
table  lands,  intersected  by  mountain  ridges,  with 
dreary  wastes  consisting  of  sandy  plains,  the  people 
continued  to  pursue  a  roving  life,  living  partly  upon 
their  flocks  of  camels,  horses,  and  horned  cattle,  and 


12  MOHAMMED. 

partly  upon  the  robbery  of  trading  caravans  of  other 
tribes.  The  people  of  the  plains,  being  near  the  wa- 
ter, settled  in  towns,  cultivated  the  soil,  and  pursued 
commerce. 

The  various  tribes  were  each  governed  by  the  old- 
est or  most  worthy  sheik  or  nobleman.  Their  bards 
met  once  a  year,  at  Okhad,  holding  a  fair  of  thirty 
days,  for  the  recitation  of  their  productions.  That 
which  was  declared  to  be  the  finest,  was  \Vritten  in 
gold  and  suspended  in  the  great  temple  of  Mecca. 
This  was  almost  the  only  common  tie  between  the 
several  states  or  tribes,  for,  although  they  nominally 
acknowledged  an  emir,  or  national  chief,  they  had 
never  been  brought  to  act  in  one  body. 

The  adoration  of  the  Arabians  consisted  chiefly  in 
the  worship  of  the  heavenly  luminaries  ;  but  they  had 
a  great  variety  of  deities,  these  being  personifications 
of  certain  powers  in  nature,  or  passions  in  mankind. 
They  were  represented  by  idols  of  every  variety  of 
shape,  which  were  gathered  around  the  ancient  tem- 
ple of  Caaba,  at  Mecca,  a  large  square  edifice,  consid- 
ered as  the  central  point  of  religion,  and  the  favorite 
seat  of  divinity.  Their  worship  was  attended  with 
the  most  horrid  rites  and  shocking  ceremonies  :  even 
children  were  sacrificed  to  the  idols,  and  one  of  the 
tribes  was  accustomed  to  bury  their  daughters  alive. 
Except  that  they  fancied  the  souls  of  the  departed  to 
be  transformed  into  owls,  hovering  in  gloom  around 
the  grave,  it  does  not  appear  that  they  had  the  least 
idea  of  a  future  state  of  existence. 

Such  was  the  state  of  religion  among  the  native 
Arabians.     Among  the  foreign  settlers  in  the  towns, 


MOHAMMED.  1^ 

there  were  a  few  followers  of  the  Greek  and  Eoman 
philosophy;  the  Christians  were  never  numerous. 
These  latter  were  divided  into  a  variety  of  sects,  and 
those  belonging  to  the  Greek  church,  advocated  mon- 
asteries, and  were  addicted  to  the  worship  of  images, 
martyrs  and  relics.  Some  of  these,  even  elevated  the 
Virgin  Mary  into  a  deity,  and  addressed  her  as  the 
third  person  in  the  Trinity. 

Mohammed,  while  he  no  doubt  looked  with  horror 
upon  this  state  of  things,  having  studied  the  Bible, 
and  clearly  comprehended  its  sublime  revelation  of 
one  God,  conceived  the  idea  of  uniting  the  people  of 
his  native  land  under  a  religion  of  which  this  funda- 
mental principle  should  constitute  the  basis.  His 
purpose  was  to  crush  idolatry,  and  restore  the  lost 
worship  of  the  true  God.  How  far  he  was  sincere, 
and  how  far  he  was  an  impostor,  we  cannot  venture 
to  affirm.  It  is  probable  that  he  was  a  religious  en- 
thusiast, deceived  by  his  own  fancies,  and,  perhaps, 
really  believing  his  own  visions.  At  the  outset  of 
his  career,  it  is  likely  that  he  acted  in  good  faith, 
while  he  was  himself  deluded.  When  he  had  ad- 
vanced so  far  as  to  see  power  and  dominion  offered  to 
his  grasp,  it  is  probable  that  his  integrity  gave  way, 
and  that  thenceforward  we  are  to  consider  him  as 
under  the  alternate  guidance  of  craft  and  fanaticism. 

Several  of  the  noblest  citizens  of  Mecca  were  finally 
converted  by  Mohammed.  Khadijah  was  now  dead, 
and  the  prophet  had  married  Ayesha,  the  daughter 
of  Abubeker,  a  man  of  great  influence,  and  who  exer- 
cised it  in  favor  of  his  son-in-law.  Yet  the  new  faith 
made  little  progress,  and  a  persecution  of  its  votaries 


14  MOHAMMED. 

arose,  which  drove  them  to  Abyssinia,  and  caused 
Mohammed  himself^to  fly  for  safety  to  Medina.  This 
flight  is  called  the  Hegira,  and,  taking  place  in  the 
year  622,  is  the  epoch  from  which  Mohammedan 
chronology  is  computed,  as  is  ours  from  the  birth  of 
Christ. 

At  Medina,  whither  his  tenets  had  been  carried  by 
pilgrims,  Mohammed  was  received  With  open  arms. 
He  was  met  by  an  imposing  procession,  and  invested 
at  once  with  the  regal  and  sacerdotal  office.  The 
people  also  offered  him  assistance  in  propagating  his 
faith,  even  by  force,  if  it  should  be  required.  From 
this  moment,  a  vast  field  seems  to  have  been  opened 
to  the  mind  of  Mohammed.  Hitherto,  he  may  have 
been  but  a  self-deceived  enthusiast ;  but  now,  ambi- 
tion appears  to  have  taken  at  least  partial  possession 
of  his  bosom.  His  revelations  at  once  assumed  a 
higher  tone.  Hitherto  he  had  chiefly  inculcated  the 
doctrine  of  one  God,  eternal,  omnipotent,  most  power- 
ful and  most  merciful,  together  with  the  practical 
duties  of  piety,  prayer,  charity,  and  pilgrimages.  He 
now  revealed,  as  a  part  of  his  new  faith,  the  duty  of 
making  war,  even  with  the  sword,  to  propagate  Islam- 
ism,  and  promised  a  sensual  paradise  to  those  who 
should  fall  in  doing  battle  in  its  behalf.  At  the  same 
time  he  announced  that  a  settled  fate  or  destiny  hung 
over  every  individual,  which  he  could  not  by  possi- 
bility alter,  evade,  or  avert. 

He  now  raised  men,  and  proceeded,  sword  in  hand, 
to  force  the  acknowledgment  of  his  pretensions.  With 
alternate  victory  and  defeat,  he  continued  to  prosecute 
his  schemes,  and  at  last  fell  upon  the  towns  and  cas- 


MOHAMMED.  i        15 

ties  of  the  peaceful  and  un warlike  Jews.  Tuhese 
were  soon  taken  and  plundered.  But  the  prophet 
paid  dearly  for  his  triumph.  A  Jewish  female,  at  the 
town  of  Chaibar,  gave  him  poison  in  some  drink,  and, 
though  he  survived,  he  never  fully  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  the  dose. 

Thus  advancing  with  the  tribes  settled  in  his  own 
country,  the  power  of  the  ambitious  apostle  increased 
like  the  avalanche  in  its  overwhelming  descent. 
Mecca  was  conquered,  and  yielded  as  well  to  his  faith 
as  to  his  arms.  He  now  made  expeditions  to  Pales- 
tine and  Syria,  while  his  officers  were  making  con- 
quests in  all  directions.  His  power  was  soon  so 
great,  that  he  sent  messages  to  the  kings  of  Egypt, 
Persia,  and  Ethiopia,  and  the  emperor  of  Constanti- 
nople, commanding  them  to  acknowledge  the  divine 
law  revealed  through  him. 

At  last,  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  Hegira,  he  pro- 
ceeded on  a  farewell  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  The 
scene  was  imposing  beyond  description.  He  was 
attended  by  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  of  his 
followers,  who  paid  him  the  greatest  reverence. 
Everything  in  dress,  equipage  and  imposing  cere- 
mony that  could  enhance  the  splendor  of  the  pageant, 
and  give  it  sanctity  in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  was 
adopted.     This  was  the  last  great  event  of  his  life. 

Mohammed  had  now  become  too  powerful  to  be 
resisted  by  force,  but  not  too  exalted  to  be  troubled 
by  competition.  His  own  example  in  assuming  the 
sacred  character  of  an  apostle  and  prophet,  and  the 
brilliant  success  which  had  attended  him,  gave  a  hint 
to  others  of  the  probable  means  of  advancing  them- 


16  MOHAMMED. 

.selves  to  a  similar  pitch  of  dignity  and  dominion. 
The  spirit  of  emulation,  therefore,  raised  up  a  fellow- 
prophet  in  the  person  of  Moseilama,  called  to  this  day 
by  the  followers  of  Islam  "  the  lying  Moseilama,"  a 
descendant  of  the  tribe  of  Honeifa,  and  a  principal 
person  in  the  province  of  Yemen. 

This  man  headed  an  embassy  sent  by  his  tribe  to 
Mohammed,  in  the  ninth  year  of  the  Hegira,  and  then 
professed  himself  a  Moslem  ;  but  on  his  return  home, 
pondering  on  the  nature  of  the  new  religion  and  the 
character  and  fortunes  of  its  founder,  the  sacrilegious 
suggestion  occurred  to  him,  that  by  skilful  manage- 
ment he  might  share  with  his  countryman  in  the  glory 
of  a  divine  mission ;  and,  accordingly,  in  the  ensuing 
year  ne  began  to  put  his  project  in  execution.  He 
gave  out  that  he,  also,  was  a  prophet  sent  of  Heaven, 
having  a  joint  commission  with  Mohammed  to  recall 
mankind  from  idolatry  to  the  worship  of  the  true  God. 
He,  moreover,  aped  his  model  so  closely  as  to  publish 
written  revelations  resembling  the  Koran,  pretended 
to  have  been  derived  from  the  same  source. 

Having  succeeded  in  gaining  a  considerable  party, 
from  the  tribe  of  Honeifa,  he  at  length  began  to  put 
himself  still  more  nearly  upon  a  level  with  the  prophet 
of  Medina,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  propose  to  Mo- 
hammed a  partnership  in  his  spiritual  supremacy. 
His  letter  commenced  thus :  *'  From  Moseilama,  the 
apostle  of  God,  to  Mohammed,  the  apostle  of  God. 
Now  let  the  earth  be  half  mine  and  half  thine."  But 
the  latter,  feeling  himself  too  firmly  established  to 
stand  in  need  of  an  associate,  deigned  to  return  him 
only  the  following  reply :    "  From  Mohammed,  the 


MOHAMMED.  It 

apostle  of  God,  to  Moseilama,  the  liar.  The  earth  is 
God's :  he  giveth  the  same  for  inheritance  unto  such 
of  his  servants  as  he  pleaseth ;  and  the  happy  issue 
shall  attend  those  who  fear  him." 
^  During  the  few  months  that  Mohammed  lived  after 
this,  Moseilama  continued,  on  the  whole,  to  gain 
ground,  and  became  at  length  so  formidable,  as  to 
occasion  extreme  anxiety  to  the  prophet,  now  rapidly 
sinking  under  the  effects  of  disease.  An  expedition, 
under  the  command  of  Caled,  the  "  Sword  of  God," 
was  ordered  out  to  suppress  the  rival  sect  headed  by 
the  spurious  apostle,  and  the  bewildered  imagination 
of  Mohammed,  in  the  moments  of  delirium,  which 
now  afflicted  him,  was  frequently  picturing  to  itself 
the  results  of  the  engagement  between  his  faithful 
Moslems  and  these  daring  apostates. 

The  army  of  Caled  returned  victorious.  Moseila- 
ma himself,  and  ten  thousand  of  his  followers,  were 
left  dead  on  the  field ;  w^hile  the  rest,  convinced  by 
the  shining  evidence  of  truth  that  gleamed  from  the 
swords  of  the  conquerors,  renounced  their  errors,  and 
fell  quietly  back  into  the  bosom  of  the  Mohammedan 
church.  Several  other  insurgents  of  similar  preten- 
ces, but  of  minor  consequence,  were  crushed  in  like 
manner  in  the  early  stages  of  their  defection. 

We  have  now  reached  the  period  at  which  the 
religion  of  Mohammed  may  be  considered  as  having 
become  permanently  established.  The  conquest  of 
Mecca  and  of  the  Koreishites  had  been,  in  fact,  the 
signal  for  the  submission  of  the  rest  of  Arabia ;  and 
though  several  of  the  petty  tribes  offered,  for  a  time, 
the  show  of  resistance  to  the  prophet's  arms,  they 

B 


18  MOHAMMED. 

were  all  eventually  subdued.  Between  the  taking  of 
Mecca  and  the  period  of  Mohammed's  death,  some- 
what more  than  three  years  elapsed.  In  that  short 
period  he  had  destroyed  the  idols  of  Arabia;  had 
extended  his  conquests  to  the  borders  of  the  Greek 
and  Persian  empires ;  had  rendered  his  name  formi- 
dable to  those  once  mighty  kingdoms ;  had  tried  his 
arms  against  the  disciplined  troops  of  the  former,  and 
defeated  them  in  a  desperate  encounter  at  Muta. 

His  throne  was  now  firmly  established;  and  an 
impulse  given  to  the  Arabian  nation,  which  induced 
them  to  invade,  and  enabled  them  to  conquer,  a  large 
portion  of  the  globe.  India,  Persia,  the  Greek  em- 
pire, the  whole  of  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  Barbary,  and 
Spain,  were  eventually  reduced  by  their  victorious 
arms.  Mohammed  himself  did  not  indeed  live  to  see 
such  mighty  conquests  achieved,  but  he  commenced 
the  train  which  resulted  in  this  wide-spread  domin- 
ion, and,  before  his  death,  had  established  over  the 
whole  of  Arabia,  and  some  parts  of  Asia,  the  religion 
which  he  had  devised. 

And  now,  having  arrived  at  the  sixty-third  year  of 
his  age,  and  the  tenth  of  the  Hegira,  A.  D.  632,  the 
fatal  effects  of  the  poison,  which  had  been  so  long 
rankling  in  his  veins,  began  to  discover  themselves 
more  and  more  sensibly,  and  to  operate  with  alarming 
virulence.  Day  by  day,  he  visibly  declined,  and  it 
was  evident  that  his  life  was  hastening  to  a  close. 
For  some  time  previous  to  the  event,  he  was  conscious 
of  its  approach,  and  is  said  to  have  viewed  and  awaited 
it  with  characteristic  firmness.  The  third  day  before 
his  dissolution,  he  ordered  himself  to  be  carried  to 


MOHAMMED.  19 

the  mosque,  that  he  might,  for  the  last  time,  address 
his  followers,  and  bestow  upon  them  his  parting 
prayers  and  benedictions.  Being  assisted  to  mount 
the  pulpit,  he  edified  his  brethren  by  the  pious  tenor 
of  his  dying  counsels,  and  in  his  oW»n  example  taught 
a  lesson  of  humility  and  penitence,  such  as  we  shall 
scarcely  find  inculcated  in  the  precepts'  of  the  Koran. 
"  If  there  be  any  man,"  said  the  prophet,  *'  whom 
I  have  unjustly  scourged,  I  submit  my  own  back  to 
the  lash  of  retaliation.  Have  I  aspersed  the  reputa- 
tion of  any  Mussulman  ?  let  him  proclaim  my  fault 
in  the  face  of  the  congregation.  Has  any  one  been 
despoiled  of  his  goods  ?  the  little  that  I  possess  shall 
compensate  the  principal  and  the  interest  of  the  debt." 
"  Yes,"  replied  a  voice*  from  the  crowd,  "  thou  owest 
me  three  drachms  of  silver! "  Mohammed  heard  the 
complaint,  satisfied  the  demand,  and  thanked  his 
creditor  that  he  had  accused  him  in  this  world,  rather 
than  at  the  day  of  judgment.  He  then  set  his  slaves 
at  liberty,  seventeen  men  and  eleven^  w^omen ;  di- 
rected the  order  of  his  funeral ;  strove  to  allay  the 
lamentations  of  his  weeping  friends,  and  waited  the 
approach  of  death.  He  did  not  expressly  nominate 
a  successor,  a  step  which  would  have  prevented  the 
altercations  that  afterwards  came  so  near  to  crushing 
in  its  infancy  the  religion  and  the  empire  of  the  Sar- 
acens ;  but  his  appointment  of  Abubeker  to  supply 
his  place  in  the  function  of  public  prayer,  and  the 
other  services  of  the  mosque,  seemed  to  intimate  in- 
directly the  choice  of  the  prophet.  This  ancient  and 
faithful  friend,  accordingly,  after  much  contention, 
became  the  first  Caliph  of  the  Saracens,  though  his 


20  MOHAMMED. 

reign  was  closed  by  his  death  at  the  end  of  two 
years. 

The  death  of  Mohammed  was  hastened  by  the 
force  of  a  burning  fever,  which  deprived  him  at  times 
of  the  use  of  rea'son.  In  one  of  these  paroxysms  of 
delirium,  he  demanded  pen  and  paper,  that  he  might 
compose  or  dictate  a  divine  book.  Omar,  who  was 
watching  .at  his  side,  refused' his  request,  lest  the 
expiring  prophet  might  dictate  something  which 
should  supersede  the  Koran.  Others,  however,  ex- 
pressed a  gteat  desire  that  the  book  might  be  written ; 
and  so  warm  a  dispute  ariose  in  the  chamber  of  the 
apostle  that  he  was  forced  to  reprove  their  unbecom- 
ing vehemence.  The  writing  was  not  performed, 
and  many  of  his  followers  have  mourned  the  loss  of 
the  sublime  revelations  which  his  dying  visions  might 
have  bequeathed  to  them. 

The  favorite  wife  of  the  prophet,  Ayesha,  hung 
over  her  husband  in  his  last  moments,  sustaining  his 
drooping  head  upon  her  knee,  as  he  lay  stretched 
upon  the  carpet;  watching  with  trembling  anxiety 
his  changing  countenance,  and  listening  to  the  last 
broken  sounds  of  his  voice.  His  disease,  as  it  drew 
towards  its  termination,  was  attended  at  intervals 
with  most  excruciating  pains,  which  he  constantly 
ascribed  to  the  fatal  morsel  taken  at  Chaibar ;  and  as 
the  mother  of  Bashar,  his  companion  who  had  died 
upon  the  spot  from  the  same  cause,  stood  by  his  side, 
he  exclaimed,  "  O  mother  of  Bashar,  the  cords  of  my 
heart  are  now  breaking  of  the  food  which  I  ate  with 
your  son  at  Chaibar."  In  his  conversation  with  those 
around  him,  he  mentioned  it  as  a  special  prerogative 


MOHAMMED.  21 

granted  to  him,  that  the  angel  of  death  was  not  allow- 
ed to  take  his  soul  till  he  had  respectfully  asked  per- 
mission of  him,  and  this  permission  he  condescend- 
ingly granted.  Recovering  from,  a  swoon  into  which 
the  violence  of  his  pains  had  thrown  him,  he  raised 
his  eyes  towards  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  with  fal- 
tering accents  exclaimed,  ''  O  God !  pardon  my  sins. 
Yes,  r  come  among  my  fellow-laborers  on  high  ! " 
His  face  was  then  sprinkled  with  water,  by  his  own 
feeble  hand,  and  shortly  after  he  expired. 

The  city,  and  more  especially  the  house  of  the 
prophet,  became  at  once  a  scene  -of  sorrowful  but 
confused  lamentation.  Some  of'-his  followers  could 
not  believe  that  he  was  dead.  ^  "  How  can  he  be  dead, 
6ur  witness,  our  intercessor,  our  mediator  with  God  ? 
He  is  not'  dead.  Like  Moses  and  Jesus,  he  is  wrapped 
in  a  holy  trance,  and  speedily  will  he  return  to  his 
faithful  people."  The  evidence  of  sense  was  disre- 
garded, and  Omar,  brandishing  his  scimitar,  threat- 
ened to  strike  off  the  heads  of 'the  infidels  who  should 
affirm  that  the  prophet  was  no  more.  The  tumult 
was  at  length  appeased,  by  the  moderation  of  Abube- 
ker.  "  Is  it  Mohammed,"  said  he,  "  or  the  God  of 
Mohammed,  whom  ye  worship?  The  God  of  Mo- 
hammed liveth  forever,  but  the  apostle  was  a  mortal 
like  ourselves,  and,  according  to  his  own  prediction, 
he  hath  experienced  the  common  fate  of  mortality." 

The  prophet's  remains  were  deposited  at  Medina, 

•'in  the  very  room  where  he  breathed  his  last,  the  floor 

being  removed  to  make  way  for  his  sepulchre,  and  a 

simple  and  unadorned  monument  was,  some  time  after, 

erected  over  them.     The  house  itself  has  long  since 


• 


22  MOHAMMED. 

mouldered,  or  been  demolished,  but  the  place  of  the 
prophet's  intermc^nt  is  still  made  conspicuous  to  the 
superstitious  reverence  of  his  disciples.  The  story 
of  his  relics  being  suspended  in  the  air,  by  the  power 
of  loadstone  in  an  iron  coffin,  and  that  too; at  Mec(!a, 
instead  of  Medina,  is  a  mere  idle  fabrication.  His 
tomb  at  the  latter  place  has  been  visited  by  millions 
of  pilgrims,  arid,  from  the  authentic  accounts  of  trav- 
ellers who  have  visited  bo|h  these  holy  citiel  in  dis- 
guise, we  learn  that  it  is  constructed  of  plain  mason 
work,  fixed  without  elevation  upon  the  surface  of  the 
ground.  The  urn  which  encloses  his  body  is  pro- 
tected by  a  trellis  oi  iron,  which  *no^  one  is  permitted 
to  pass. 

The  Koran  or  Alkoran,  meaning  the  Book,  is  a  col- 
lection of  all  the  various  fragments  which  the  prophet 
uttered  during  the  period  in  which  he  professed  to 
exercise  the  apostolic  office.  '  They  were  originally 
written  on  scattered  leaves,  but  they  were  collected 
by  Abubeker, .  two  years  after  Mohammed's  death. 
They  are  in  the  purest  and  most  refined  dialect  of 
Arabia,  and  are  distinguished  by  extraordinary  graces 
of  style. 

The  Koran  furnishes  not  only  the  divinity,*  but  the 
civil  law  of  the  Mohammedans.  It  professes  to  con- 
tain the  revelation  of  God's  will  by  Gabriel  to,-  Mo- 
hammed, and  through  him  to  mankind.  One  of  the 
books  gives  an  account  of  the  translation  of  •  the 
prophet  by  night  to  the  third  heaven,  upon  a  winged  • 
animal,  named  Alborak,  and  resembling  an  ass,  where 
he  saw  unutterable  things.  The  great  doctrines  of  the 
Koran,  as  before  stated,  are  the  existence  of  one  supreme 

•    .     .     ft 


MOHAMMED.  23 

God,  to  whom  alone  adoration  and  obedience  are  due. 
It  declares  that  the  divine  law  was  faithfully  delivered 
by  Adam,  Noah,  Abraham,  Moses,  and  Christ.  It 
declares  the  immortality  of  the  soul  of  man,  and  the 
final  judgment,  and  sets  forth  that  the  good  are  to 
dwell  in  everlasting  bliss,  amid  shady  and  delicious 
groves,  and  attended  by  heavenly  virgins.  The  hope 
of  salvation  is  not  confined  to  the  Moslem,  but  is  ex- 
tended to  all  who  believe  in  God  and  do  good  works. 
Sinners,  particularly  unbelievers,  are  to  be  driven 
about  in  a  dark  burning  hell,  forever. 

The  practical  duties  enjoined  by  the  Koran,  are  the 
propagation  of  Islamism,  and  prayers  directed  to  the 
temple  of  Mecca,  at  five  different  periods  of  the  day, 
together  with  fasting,  alms,  religious  ablutions,  pil- 
grimages to  Mecca,  &c.  It  allows  a  man  but  four 
wives,  though  the  prophet  had  seventeen,  and  it  is 
curious  to  add  that  all  were  widows,  save  one.  It 
strongly  prohibits  usury,  gaming,  wine  and  pork. 

We  cannot  deny  to  Mohammed  the  possession  of 
extraordinary  genius.  He  was  a  man  of  great  elo- 
quence, and  the  master  of  a  beautiful  style  of  compo- 
sition ;  and  he  possessed  that  majesty  of  person, 
which,  united  to  his  mental  qualities,  gave  him  great 
ascendancy  over  those  who  came  into  his  presence. 
He  lived  in  a  dark  age,  amid  a  benighted  people  ;  yet, 
without  the  aids  of  education,  he  mastered  the  reli- 
gious systems  of  the  day,  and  took  a  broad  and  sa- 
gacious view  of  the  moral  and  political  condition  of 
the  people  of  Asia.  He  conceived  tbe  sublime  idea 
of  uniting,  by  one  mighty  truth,  the  broken  fragments 
of  his  own  nation,  and  the  destruction  of  idolatry  by 


24 


MOHAMMED. 


the  substitution  of  the  worship  of  one  God.  It  is  true, 
that  he  sought  to  accomplish  these  ends  by  unlawful 
means — ^by  imposture,  and  the  bloody  use  of  the 
sword ;  we  must  admit,  also,  that  he  was  licentious ; 
and  although  we  cannot  fail  to  condemn  his  character, 
we  must  acknowledge  the  splendor  of  his  abilities,  and 
allow  that  while  he  imposed  on  his  followers,  he 
established  a  faith  infinitely  above  Paganism,  and 
sprinkled  with  many  rays  of  light  from  the  fountain 
of  Divine  Truth. 


■■*!i^ 


BELISARIUS. 

This  celebrated  general,  to  whom  the  emperor  Jus- 
tinian is  chiefly  indebted  for  the  glory  of  his  reign, 
was  a  native  of  Germania,  on  the  confines  of  Thrace, 
and  was  born  about  the  year  505.  It  is  probable  that 
he  was  of 'noble  descent,  liberally  educated,  and  a 
professor  of  the  Christian  faith.  The  first  step  in  his 
military  career  was  an  appointment  in  the  personal 
guard  of  Justinian,  while  that  prince  was  yet  heir 
apparent  to  the  throne. 


26  BELISARIUS. 

The  Roman  or  Byzantine  empire,  at  this  period, 
embraced  almost  exactly  the  present  territory  of  the 
Turkish  dominions  in  Europfe  and  Asia  Minor,  with 
the  addition  of  Greece — Constantinople  being  its  cap- 
ital. Italy  was  held  by  the  Goths  ;  Corsica,  Sardinia 
and  Barbary  in  Africa,  by  the  Vandals. 

Justin  I.,  an  lUyrian  peasant,  having  distinguished 
himself  as  a  soldier,  had  become  emperor.  His  edu- 
cation was  of  course  neglected,  and  such  was  his 
ignorance,  that  his  signature  could  only  be  obtained 
by  means  of  a  wooden  case,  which  directed  his  pen 
through  the  four  first  letters  of  his  name.  From  his 
accession,  the  chief  adniinistration  of  affairs  devolved 
on  Justinian,  his  nephew  and  intended  heir,  whom 
he  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  raise  from  office  to 
office,  and  at  length  to  acknowledge  as  his  partner  on 
the  throne.  His  death,  after  a  languid  reign  of  nine 
years  and  a  life  of  nearly  fourscore,  left  Justinian 
sole  sovereign  in  name,  as  well  as  in  fact. 

In  order  to  appreciate  the  life  and  actions  of  Beli- 
sarius,  it  is  necessary  to  understand  the  character  of 
the  new  emperor,  during  whose  long  reign  his  great 
exploits  were  performed.  The  first  act  of  Justinian 
on  ascending  the  throne,  was  to  marry  a  dissolute 
actress,  named  Theodora,  who,  though  licentious, 
avaricious,  cruel  and  vindictive,  soon  acquired  an 
almost  complete  control  over  him.  His  mind  was 
essentially  feeble  and  inconstant,  and,  though  his 
Christian  faith  was  doubtless  sincere,  it  was  less  fruit- 
ful of  virtues  than  of  rites  and  forms.  At  his  acces- 
sion his  treasury  was  full ;  but  it  was  soon  exhausted 
by  his  profuseness,  and  heavy  taxes  were  imposed. 


BELISARIUS. 


27 


offices  put  to  sale,  charities  suppressed,  private  for- 
tunes seized,  and,  in  short,  every  act  of  rapacity,  injus- 
tice and  oppression,  practised  by  his  ministers,  to 
support  the  wasteful  magnificence  of  the  court. 

The  troops  of  the  empire  at  this  period  were  by  no 
means  what  they  had  been  in  the  time  of  Scipio  and 
Caesar.  They  consisted,  to  a  great  extent,  of  foreign 
mercenaries,  and  were  divided  into  squadrons  accord- 
ing to  their  country  ;  thus  destroying  all  unity  of  feel- 
ing, and  annihilating  that  national  spirit  which  once 
made  the  Roman  arms  the  terror  of  the  world.  These 
hired  troops,  which  greatly  outnumbered  the  native 
soldiers,  marched  under  their  own  national  banner, 
were  commanded  by  their  own  officers,  and  usually 
followed  their  own  military  regulations.  The  ineffi- 
ciency of  such  mingled  and  discordant  forces,  is  obvi- 
ous ;  yet  it  was  under  such  a  system  that  Belisarius 
entered  upon  his  military  career. 

With  a  feeble  and  corrupt  government,  an  ill-ap- 
pointed and  trustless  army,  the  Roman  empire  was 
still  surrounded  with  powerful  enemies.  It  is  scarcely 
possible  to  conceive  of  a  great  nation  in  a  condition 
of  more  complete  debility  and  helplessness,  than  was 
the  kingdom  of  the  CaBsars,  at  the  period  in  which 
Belisarius  appears  upon  the  active  stage  of  life. 

Kobad,  king  of  Persia,  after  a  long  cessation  of  hos- 
tilities, renewed  the  war  toward  the  close  of  Justin's 
reign,  by  the  invasion  of  Iberia,  which  claimed  the 
protection  of  the  emperor.  At  this  period,  Belisarius, 
being  about  twenty  years  of  age,  had  the  command 
of  a  squadron  of  horse,  and  was  engaged  in  some  of 
the  conflicts  with  the  Persian  forces,  on  the  borders 


28  BELISARIUS. 

of  Armenia.  In  conjunction  with  an  officer  named 
Sittas,  he  ravaged  a  large  extent  of  territory,  and 
brought  back  a  considerable  number  of  prisoners. 

On  a  second  incursion,  however,  they  were  less 
fortunate ;  for,  being  suddenly  attacked  by  the  Per- 
sian forces,  they  were  entirely  defeated.  It  appears 
that  Belisarius  incurred  no  blame,  for  he  was  soon 
after  promoted  to  the  post  of  governor  of  Dara,  and 
the  command  of  the  forces  stationed  there.  It  was  at 
this  place  that  he  chose  Procopius,  the  historian,  as 
his  secretary,  and  who  afterwards  repaid  his  kindness 
by  a  vain  attempt  to  brand  his  name  with  enduring 
infamy. 

Soon  after  Belisarius  obtained  the  command  of 
Dara,  Justinian  came  to  the  throne,  and  enjoined  it 
upon  his  generals  to  strengthen  the  defences  of  the 
empire  in  that  quarter.  This  was  attempted,  but  the 
Persians  baffled  the  effort.  Belisarius  was  now  ap- 
pointed general  of  the  East,  being  commander-in-chief 
of  the  whole  line  of  the  Asiatic  frontier.  Foreseeing 
that  a  formidable  struggle  was  soon  to  ensue,  he 
applied  himself  to  the  raising  and  disciplining  an 
army.  He  traversed  the  neighboring  provinces  in 
person,  and  at  last  succeeded  in  mustering  five  and 
twenty  thousand  men.  These,  however,  were  with- 
out discipline,  and  their  spirit  was  depressed  by  the 
ill  success  that  had  long  attended  the  Roman  arms. 

In  this  state  of  things,  the  news  suddenly  came, 
that  40,000  men,  the  flower  of  the  Persian  army, 
commanded  by  Firouz,  was  marching  upon  Dara. 
Confident  of  victory,  the  Persian  general  announced 
his  approach,  by  the  haughty  message  that  a  bath 


BELISAR1T7S.  29 

should  be  ready  for  him  at  Dara  the  next  evening. 
Belisarius  made  no  other  reply  than  preparations  for 
battle.  Fortifying  himself  in  the  best  manner  he  was 
able,  he  awaited  the  onset ;  exhorting  his  men,  how- 
ever, by  every  stimulating  motive  he  could  suggest, 
to  do  honor  to  the  name  and  fame  of  Rome. 

The  battle  began  by  a  mutual  discharge  of  arrows, 
so  numerous  as  to  darken  the  air.  When  the  quivers 
were  exhausted,  they  came  to  closer  combat.  The 
struggle  was  obstinate  and  bloody ;  and  the  Persians 
were  already  about  to  win  the  victory,  when  a  body 
of  horse,  judiciously  stationed  behind  a  hill  by  Belisa- 
rius, rushed  forward,  and  turned  the  tide  of  success. 
The  Persians  fled,  and  the  triumph  of  Belisarius  was 
complete.  They  left  their  royal  standard  upon  the 
field  of  battle,  with  8000  slain.  This  victory  had  a 
powerful  effect,  and  decided  the  fate  of  the  campaign. 

The  aged  Kobad,  who  had  conceived  a  profound 
contempt  for  the  Romans,  was  greatly  irritated  by  the 
defeat  of  his  troops.  He  determined  upon  a  still 
more  powerful  effort,  and  the  next  season  sent  a  for- 
midable army  to  invade  Syria.  Belisarius,  with  a 
promptitude  that  astounded  the  enemy,  proceeded  to 
the  defence  of  this  province,  and,  with  an  inferior 
force,  compelled  the  Persian  army  to  retreat.  Obliged 
at  length,  by  his  soldiers,  against  his  own  judgment, 
to  give  battle  to  the  enemy,  he  suffered  severely,  and 
only  avoided  total  defeat  by  the  greatest  coolness  and 
address.  Even  the  partial  victory  of  the  enemy  was 
without  advantage  to  them,  for  they  were  obliged  to 
retreat,  and  abandon  their  enterprise.  Soon  after  this 
event,  Kobad  died,  in  his  eighty-third  year,  and  his 


30  BELISARIUS. 

successor,  Nushirvan,  concluded  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  Justinian. 

The  war  being  thus  terminated,  Belisarius  took  up 
his  residence  at  Constantinople,  and  here  became  the 
second  husband  of  Antonina,  who,  though  the  child 
of  an  actress,  had  contracted  an  exalted  marriage  on 
account  of  her  beauty,  and  having  filled  a  high  office, 
enjoyed  the  rank  and  honors  of  a  patrician.  While 
thus  raised  above  the  dangerous  profession  of  her 
mother,  she  still  adhered  to  the  morals  of  the  stage. 
Though  openly  licentious,  she  obtained  through  her 
bold,  decided,  and  intriguing  character,  aided  by  re- 
markable powers  of  fascination,  a  complete  ascendancy 
over  Belisarius.  It  is  seldom  that  a  man  is  great  in 
all  respects,  and  the  weakness  of  the  general  whose 
history  we  are  delineating,  was  exhibited  in  a  blind 
and  submissive  attachment  to  this  profligate  woman. 

A  singular  outbreak  of  popular  violence  occurred 
about  this  period,  which  stained  the  streets  of  Con- 
stantinople with  blood,  and  threatened  for  a  time  to 
hurl  Justinian  from  his  throne.  The  fondness  of  the 
Romans  for  the  amusements  of  the  circus,  had  in  no 
degree  abated.  Indeed,  as  the  gladiatorial  combats 
had  been  suppressed,  these  games  were  frequented 
with  redoubled  ardor.  The  charioteers  were  distin- 
guished by  the  various  colors  of  red,  white,  blue,  and 
green,  intending  to  represent  the  four  seasons.  Those 
of  each  color,  especially  the  blue  and  green,  possessed 
numerous  and  devoted  partisans,  which  became  at 
last  connected  with  civil  and  religious  prejudices. 

Justinian  favored  the  Blues,  who  became  for  that 
reason  the  emblem  of  royalty ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 


I 


BELISARIUS.  31 


Greens  became  the  type  of  disaffection.  Though 
these  dangerous  factions  were  denounced  by  the  stat- 
utes, still,  at  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  each  party 
were  ready  to  lavish  their  fortunes,  risk  their  lives, 
and  brave  the  severest  sentence  of  the  laws,  in  sup- 
port of  their  darling  color.  At  the  commencement  of 
the  year  532,  by  one  of  those  sudden  caprices  which 
are  often  displayed  by  the  populace,  the  two  factions 
united,  and  turned  their  vengeance  against  Justinian. 
The  prisons  were  forced,  and  the  guards  massacred. 
The  city  was  then  fired  in  various  parts,  the  cathe- 
dral of  St.  Sophia,  a  part  of  the  imperial  palace,  and 
a  great  number  of  public  and  private  buildings,  were 
wrapped  in  conflagration. '  The  cry  of  ^^Nika !  Nika  !  " 
Vanquish  !  Vanquish  !  ran  through  every  part  of  the 
capital. 

The  principal  citizens  hurried  to  the  opposite  shore 
of  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  emperor  entrenched  him- 
self within  his  palace.  In  the  mean  time,  Hypatius, 
nephew  of  the  emperor  Anastatius,  was  declared  em- 
peror by  the  rioters,  and  so  formidable  had  the  insur- 
rection now  become,  that  Justinian  was  ready  to 
abdicate  his  crown.  For  the  first  and  last  time,  The- 
odora seemed  worthy  of  the  throne,  for  she  withstood 
the  pusillanimity  of  her  husband,  and,  through  her 
animated  exhortations,  it  was  determined  to  take  the  , 
chance  of  victory  or  death. 

Justinian's  chief  hope  now  rested  on  Belisarius. 
Assisted  by  Mundus,  the  governor  of  Illyria,  who 
chanced  to  be  in  the  capital,  he  now  called  upon  the 
guards  to  rally  in  defence  of  the  emperor ;  but  these 
refused  to  obey  him.    Meanwhile,  by  another  caprice, 


32  BELISARIUS. 

the  party  of  the  Blues,  becoming  ashamed  of  their 
conduct,  shrunk  one  by  one  away,  and  left  Hypatius 
to  be  sustained  by  the  Greens  alone. 

These  were  dismayed  at  seeing  Belisarius,  issu- 
ing with  a  few  troops  which  he  had  collected,  from 
the  smoking  ruins  of  the  palace.  Drawing  his  sword, 
and  commanding  his  veterans  to  follow,  he  fell  upon 
them  like  a  thunderbolt.  Mundus,  with  another  divis- 
ion of  soldiers,  rushed  upon  them  from  the  opposite 
direction.  The  insurgents  were  panic-struck,  and 
dispersed  in  every  quarter.  Hypatius  was  dragged 
from  the  throne  which  he  had  ascended  a  few  hours 
before,  and  was  soon  after  executed  in  prison.  The 
Blues  now  emerged  from  their  concealment,  and, 
falling  upon  their  antagonists,  glutted  their  merciless 
and  ungovernable  vengeance.  No  less  than  thirty 
thousand  persons  were  slain  in  this  fearful  convulsion. 

We  must  now  turn  our  attention  to  Africa,  in  which 
the  next  exploits  of  Belisarius  were  performed.  The 
northern  portion  of  this  part  of  the  world,  known  to 
us  by  the  merited  by-word  of  Barbary,  hardly  retains 
a  trace  of  the  most  formidable  rival  and  opulent  prov- 
ince of  Rome.  After  the  fall  of  Jugurtha,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  second  century,  it  had  enjoyed 
a  long  period  of  prosperity  and  peace — having  es- 
caped the  sufferings  which  had  fallen  upon  every 
other  portion  of  the  empire.  The  Africans  in  the  fifth 
century  were  abounding  in  wealth,  population,  and 
resources.  During  the  minority  of  Valentinian,  Bon- 
iface was  appointed  governor  of  Africa.  Deceived  by 
-^tius  into  a  belief  of  ingratitude  on  the  part  of  the 
government  at  home,  he  determined  upon  resistance ; 


BELISARIUS.  33 

and,  with  this  view,  concluded  a  treaty  with  the  Van» 
dais  in  the  southern  portion  of  Spain. 

These,  embarking  from  Andalusia,  whose  name 
still  denotes  their  former  residence,  landed  at  the 
opposite  cape  of  Ceuta,  A.  D.  429.  Their  leader  was 
the  far-famed  Genseric,  one  of  the  most  able,  but  most 
lawless  and  bloody  monarchs  recorded  in  history. 
Of  a  middle  stature,  and  lamed  by  a  fall  from  his 
horse,  his  demeanor  was  thoughtful  and  silent ;  he 
was  contemptuous  of  luxury,  sudden  in  anger,  and 
boundless  in  ambition.  Yet  his  impetuosity  was 
always  guided  and  restrained  by  cunning.  He  well 
knew  how  to  tempt  the  allegiance  of  a  foreign  nation, 
to  cast  the  seeds  of  future  discord,  or  to  rear  them  to 
maturity. 

The  barbarians  on  their  passage  to  Africa  consisted 
of  50,000  fighting  men,  with  a  great  crowd  of  women 
and  children.  Their  progress  through  the  African 
province  was  rapid  and  unopposed,  till  Boniface,  dis- 
covering the  artifices  of  jEtius,  and  the  favorable  dis- 
position of  the  government  of  Rome,  bitterly  repented 
the  effects  of  his  hasty  resentment.  He  now  endea- 
vored to  withdraw  his  Vandal  allies  ;  but  he  found  it 
less  easy  to  allay,  than  it  had  been  to  raise,  the  storm. 
His  proposals  were  haughtily  rejected,  and  both  par- 
ties had  recourse  to  arms.  Boniface  was  defeated,  and 
in  the  event,  Genseric  obtained  entire  possession  of 
the  Roman  provinces  in  Africa. 

Carthage,  which  had  risen  from  its  ruins  at  the 

command  of  Julius  Caesar  and  been  embellished  by 

Diocletian,  had  regained  a  large  share  of  its  former 

opulence  and  pride,  and  might  be  considered,  at  the 

c 


34  BELISARIUS. 

time  of  which  we  speak,  the  second  city  in  the  west- 
ern empire.  Making  this  his  capital,  Genseric  pro- 
ceeded to  adopt  various  measures  to  increase  his 
power,  and,  among  others,  determined  upon  the  crea- 
tion of  a  naval  force.  With  him,  project  and  perform- 
ance were  never  far  asunder.  His  ships  soon  rode 
in  the  Mediterranean,  and  carried  terror  and  destruc- 
tion in  their  train.  He  annexed  to  his  kingdom  the 
Balearic  islands,  Corsica  and  Sardinia ;  the  last  of 
which  was  afterwards  allotted  by  the  Vandals  as  a 
place  of  exile  or  imprisonment  for  captive  Moors ; 
and  during  many  years,  the  ports  of  Africa  were  what 
they  became  in  more  recent  days,  the  abode  of  fierce 
and  unpunished  pirates. 

With  every  returning  spring,  the  fleet  of  Genseric 
f  ravaged  the  coasts  of  Italy  and  Sicily,  and  even  of 
Greece  and  Illyria,  sometimes  bearing  off  the  inhabi- 
tants to  slavery,  and  sometimes  levelling  their  cities 
to  the  ground.  Emboldened  by  long  impunity,  he 
attacked  every  government  alike.  On  one  occasion, 
when  sailing  from  Carthage,  he  was  asked  by  the 
pilot  of  his  vessel  to  what  coast  he  desired  to  steer — 
"  Leave  the  guidance  to  God,"  exclaimed  the  stern 
barbarian ;  "  God  will  doubtless  lead  us  against  the 
guilty  objects  of  his  anger  ! " 

The  most  memorable  achievement  of  Genseric,  the 
sack  of  Rome  in  455,  is  an  event  too  much  out  of  the 
track  of  our  narrative  to  be  detailed  here.  We  can 
only  pau.^e  to  state,  that,  after  spending  a  fortnight  in 
that  great  metropolis,  and  loading  his  fleets  with  its 
spoils,  he  returned  to  Africa,  bearing  the  Empress 
Eudocia  thither,  as  his  captive.     She  was,  at  length. 


BELISARIUS. 


3d 


released,  but  one  of  her  daughters  was  compelled  by 
Genseric  to  accept  his  son  in  marriage. 

The  repeated  outrages  of  the  Vandal  king  at  length 
aroused  the  tardy  resentment  of  the  court  of  Constan- 
tinople, and  Leo  I.,  then  emperor,  despatched  an  army 
against  him,  consisting  of  nearly  one  hundred  thou- 
sand men,  attended  by  the  most  formidable  fleet  that 
had  ever  been  launched  by  the  Romans.  The  com- 
mander was  a  weak  man,  and  being  cheated  into  a 
truce  of  five  days  by  Genseric,  the  latter  took  advan^- 
tage  of  a  moment  of  security,  and,  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  caused  a  number  of  small  vessels,  filled  Avith 
combustibles,  to  be  introduced  among  the  Roman 
ships.  A  conflagration  speedily  ensued;  and  the 
Romans,  starting  from  their  slumbers,  found  them- 
selves encompassed  by  fire  and  the  Vandals.  The 
wild  shrieks  of  the  perishing  multitude  mingled  with 
the  crackling  of  the  flames  and  the  roaring  of  the 
winds;  and  the  enemy  proved  as  unrelenting  as  the 
elements.  The  greater  part  of  the  fleet  was  destroy- 
ed, and  only  a  few  shattered  ships,  and  a  small  num- 
ber of  survivors,  found  their  way  back  to  Constanti- 
nople. 

A  peace  soon  followed  this  event,  which  continued 
uninterrupted  till  the  time  of  Justinian.  Genseric 
died  in  477,  leaving  his  kingdom  to  his  son  Hunneric. 
About  the  year  530,  Gelimer  being  upon  the  Vandal 
throne,  Justinian  began  to  meditate  an  expedition 
against  him.  His  generals,  with  the  exception  of 
Belisarius,  were  averse  to  the  undertaking.  The  same 
feeling  was  shared  by  many  of  the  leading  men  about 
the  court,  and  in  an  assembly,  in  which  the  subject 


36  BELISARIUS. 

was  under  discussion,  Justinian  was  about  to  yield  to 
the  opposition,  when  a  bishop  from  the  east  earnestly 
begged  admission  to  his  presence. 

On  entering  the  council  chamber  he  exhorted  the 
emperor  to  stand  forth  as  the  champion  of  the  church, 
and,  in  order  to  confirm  him  in  the  enterprise,  he 
declared  that  the  Lord  had  appeared  to  him  in  a 
vision,  saying,  "  I  will  march  before  him  in  his  battles, 
and  make  him  sovereign  of  Africa."  Men  seldom 
reject  a  tale,  however  fantastic,  which  coincides  with 
their  wishes  or  their  prepossessions.  All  the  doubts 
of  Justinian  were  at  once  removed  ;  he  commanded  a 
fleet  and  army  to  be  forthwith  equipped  for  this  sacred 
enterprise,  and  endeavored  still  further  to  insure  its 
success  by  his  austerity  in  fasts  and  vigils.  Belisa- 
rius  was  named  supreme  commander,  still  retaining 
his  title  as  General  of  the  East. 

In  the  month  of  June,  A.  D.  533,  the  Roman  arma- 
ment, consisting  of  ^ye  hundred  transports,  with  twenty 
thousand  sailors,  and  nearly  the  same  number  of  sol- 
diers, became  ready  for  departure.  The  general 
embarked,  attended  on  this  occasion  by  Antonina  and 
his  secretary,  the  historian  Procopius,  who,  at  first, 
had  shared  in  the  popular  fear  and  distaste  of  the 
enterprise,  but  had  afterwards  been  induced  to  join  it 
by  a  hopeful  dream.  The  galley  of  Belisarius  was 
moored  near  the  shore,  in  front  of  the  imperial  palace, 
where  it  received  a  last  visit  from  Justinian,  and  a 
solemn  blessing  from  the  patriarch  of  the  city.  A 
soldier  recently  baptized  was  placed  on  board,  to  se- 
cure its  prosperous  voyage ;  its  sails  were  then  un- 
furled, and,  with  the  other  ships  in  its  train,  it  glided 


BELISARIUS.  37 

down  the  straits  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  gradually- 
disappeared  from  the  lingering  gaze  of  the  assembled 
multitude. 

With  a  force  scarcely  one  fourth  as  strong  as  that 
which  was  annihilated  by  Genseric,  about  seventy 
years  before,  Belisarius  proceeded  upon  his  expedition. 
Having  touched  at  Sicily  and  Malta,  he  proceeded  to 
the  coast  of  Africa,  where  he  landed  in  September, 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Carthage,  and 
began  his  march  upon  that  city.  He  took  several 
towns,  but  enforcing  the  most  rigid  discipline  upon 
his  troops,  and  treating  the  inhabitants  with  moder- 
ation and  courtesy,  he  entirely  gained  their  confidence 
and  good  will.  They  brought  ample  provisions  to 
his  camp,  and  gave  him  such  a  reception  as  might  be 
expected  rather  by  a  native  than  a  hostile  army. 

When  the  intelligence  of  the  landing  and  progress 
of  the  Romans  reached  Gelimer,  who  was  then  at 
Hermione,  he  was  roused  to  revenge,  and  took  his 
^measures  with  promptitude  and  skill.  He  had  an 
army  of  eighty  thousand  men,  the  greater  part  of 
whom  were  soon  assembled,  and  posted  in  a  defile 
about  ten  miles  from  Carthage,  directly  in  the  route 
by  which  Belisarius  was  approaching.  Several  se- 
vere skirmishes  soon  followed,  in  which  the  Vandals 
were  defeated. 

The  main  army  now  advanced,  and  a  general  en- 
gagement immediately  ensued.  In  the  outset,  the 
Vandals  prevailed,  and  the  Romans  were  on  the  eve 
of  flying,  defeated,  from  the  field.  A  pause  on  the 
part  of  Gelimer  was,  however,  seized  upon  by  Beli- 
sarius to  collect  and  rally  his  forces,  and  with  a  united 


38  BELISARIUS. 

effort  he  now  charged  the  Vandal  army.  The  con- 
flict was  fierce,  but  brief:  Gelimer  was  totally  defeat- 
ed, and,  with  a  few  faithful  adherents,  he  sought  safety 
in  flight.  Knowing  that  the  ruinous  walls  of  Car- 
thage could  not  sustain  a  siege,  he  took  his  way  to 
the  deserts  of  Numidia. 

All  idea  of  resistance  was  abandoned ;  the  gates 
of  Carthage  were  thrown  open,  and  the  chains  across 
the  entrance  of  the  port  were  removed.  The  Roman 
fleet  soon  after  arrived,  and  was  safely  anchored  in 
the  harbor.  On  the  16th  September,  Belisarius  made 
a  solemn  entry  into  the  capital.  Having  taken  every 
precaution  against  violence  and  rapacity,  not  a  single 
instance  of  tumult  or  outrage  occurred,  save  that  a 
captain  of  one  of  the  vessels  plundered  some  of  the 
inhabitants,  but  was  obliged  to  restore  the  spoil  he 
had  taken.  The  soldiers  marched  peaceably  to  their 
quarters ;  the  inhabitants  continued  to  pursue  their 
avocations ;  the  shops  remained  open,  and,  in  spite  of 
the  change  of  sovereigns,  public  business  was  not  for 
a  moment  interrupted  !  Belisarius  took  up  his  quar- 
ters in  the  palace  of  Gelimer,  and  in  the  evening  held 
a  sumptuous  banquet  there,  being  attended  by  the 
same  servants  who  had  so  lately  been  employed  by 
the  Vandal  king. 

With  his  usual  activity,  Belisarius  immediately 
applied  himself  to  the  restoration  of  the  ruinous  ram- 
parts of  the  city.  The  ditch  was  deepened,  the 
breaches  filled,  the  walls  strengthened,  and  the  whole 
was  completed  in  so  short  a  space  as  to  strike  the 
Vandals  with  amazement.  Meanwhile,  Gelimer  was 
collecting  a  powerful  army  at  Bulla,  on  the  borders 


BELISARIUS.  39 

of  Numidia,  at  the  distance  of  four  days'  journey 
from  Carthage. 

Having  placed  the  capital  in  a  proper  state  for  de- 
fence, at  the  end  of  three  months  from  its  capture, 
Belisarius  led  forth  his  army,  leaving  only  five  hun- 
dred troops  to  guard  the  city.  Gelimer  was  now 
within  twenty  miles  of  the  capital,  having  raised  an 
army  of  one  hundred  thousand  men.  No  sooner  had 
the  Romans  taken  up  their  march  toward  his  camp, 
than  they  prepared  for  battle.  The  armies  soon  met, 
and  Belisarius,  having  determined  to  direct  all  his 
endeavors  against  the  centre  of  the  Vandal  force, 
caused  a  charge  to  be  made  by  some  squadrons  of  the 
horse  guards.  These  were  repulsed,  and  a  second 
onset,  also,  proved  unsuccessful. 

But  a  third  prevailed,  after  afi  obstinate  resistance. 
The  ranks  of  the  enemy  were  broken  ;  Zazo,  the 
king's  brother,  was  slain,  and  consternation  now  com- 
pleted the  rout  of  the  Vandals.  Gelimer,  under  the 
influence  of  panic,  betook  himself  to  flight ;  his  ab- 
sence was  perceived,  and  his  conduct  imitated.  The 
soldiers  dispersed  in  all  directions,  leaving  their  camp, 
their  goods,  their  families,  all  in  the  hands  of  the 
Romans.  Belisarius  seized  upon  the  royal  treasure 
in  behalf  of  his  sovereign,  and  in  spite  of  his  com- 
mands, the  licentious  soldiers  spent  the  night  in  de- 
bauchery, violence  and  plunder. 

Gelimer  fled  to  the  mountains  of  Papua,  inhabited 
by  a  savage  but  friendly  tribe  of  Moors.  He  sought 
refuge  in  the  small  town  of  Medenus,  which  present- 
ed a  craggy  precipice  on  all  sides.  Belisarius  re- 
turned to  Carthage,  and  sent  out  various  detachments, 


r 


40  BELISARIUS. 

which  rapidly  subdued  the  most  remote  portions  of 
the  Vandal  kingdom. 

Immediately  after  the  capture  of  Carthage,  he  had 
despatched  one  of  his  principal  officers  to  Justinian, 
announcing  these  prosperous  events.  The  intelligence 
arrived  about  the  time  that  the  emperor  had  completed 
his  pandects.^  The  exultation  of  the  monarch  is 
evinced  by  the  swelling  titles  he  assumes  in  the  pre- 
amble of  these  laws.  All  mention  of  the  general  by 
whom  his  conquests  had  been  achieved,  is  carefully 
avoided ;  while  the  emperor  is  spoken  of  as  the 
"  pious,"  "  happy,"  *'  victorious,"  and  "  triumphant ! " 
He  even  boasts,  in  his  Institutes,  of  the  warlike  fatigues 
he  had  borne,  though  he  had  never  quitted  the  luxu- 
rious palace  of  Constantinople,  except  for  recreation 
in  some  of  his  neighboring  villas. 

While  the  Roman  general  was  actively  employed 
at  Carthage,  Pharus  was  proceeding  in  the  siege  of 
Medenus,  which  had  been  begun  immediately  after  the 
flight  of  Gelimer.  Pent  up  in  this  narrow  retreat, 
the  sufferings  of  the  Vandal  monarch  were  great,  from 
the  want  of  supplies  and  the  savage  habits  of  the 
Moors.  His  lot  was  likewise  embittered  by  the  recol- 
lection of  the  soft  and  luxurious  life  to  which  he  had 
lately  been  accustomed. 

*  These  were  a  digest  of  the  civil  law  of  Rome,  made  by  the 
order  of  Justinian,  and  have  been  preserved  to  our  time. 
They  contained  five  hundred  and  thirty-four  decisions  or  judg- 
ments of  lawyers,  to  which  the  emperor  gave  the  force  of  law. 
The  compilation  consists  of  fifty  books,  and  has  contributed  to 
save  Justinian's  name  from  the  contempt  and  reproach  which 
had  otherwise  been  heaped  upon  it. 


During  their  dominion  m  Africa,  the^rkmalsTiaa  iA  *^ 
declined  from  their  former  hardihood,  and  yietded  to 
the  enervating  influence  of  climate,  security  and  suc- 
cess. Their  arms  were  laid  aside  ;  gold  embroidery 
shone  upon  their  silken  robes,  and  every  dainty  from 
the  sea  and  land  v^^ere  combined  in  their  rich  repasts. 
Reclining  in  the  shade  of  delicious  gardens,  their 
careless  hours  were  amused  by  dancers  and  musi- 
cians, and  no  exertion  beyond  the  chase,  interrupted 
their  voluptuous  repose.  The  Moors  of  Papua,  on 
the  contrary,  dwelt  in  narrow  huts,  sultry  in  summer, 
and  pervious  to  the  snows  of  winter.  They  most 
frequently  slept  upon  the  bare  ground,  and  a  sheep- 
skin for  a  couch  was  a  rare  refinement.  The  same 
dress,  a  cloak  and  a  tunic,  clothed  them  at  every 
season,  and  they  were  strangers  to  the  use  of  both 
bread  and  wi»e.  Their  grain  was  devoured  in  its 
crude  state,  or  at  best  was  coarsely  pounded  and 
baked,  with  little  skill,  into  an  unleavened  paste. 

Compelled  to  share  this  savage  mode  of  life,  Geli- 
mer  and  his  attendants  began  to  consider  captivity,  or 
even  death,  as  better  than  the  daily  hardships  they 
endured.  To  avail  himself  of  this  favorable  dispo- 
sition, Pharus,  in  a  friendly  letter,  proposed  a  capitu- 
lation, and  assured  Gelimer  of  generous  treatment 
from  Belisarius  and  Justinian.  The  spirit  of  the 
Vandal  prince,  however,  was  still  not  wholly  broken, 
and  he  refused  the  offers,  while  acknowledging  the 
kindness  of  his  enemy.  In  his  answer  he  entreated 
the  gifts  of  a  lyre,  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  a  sponge,  and 
his^messenger  explained  the  grounds  of  this  singular 
petition.    At  Medenus,  he  had  never  tasted  the  food  of 


42  BELISARIUS. 

civilized  nations,  he  wished  to  sing  to  music  an  ode 
on  his  misfortunes  written  by  himself,  and  a  swelling 
on  his  eyes  needed  a  sponge  for  its  cure.  The  brave 
Roman,  touched  with  pity  that  such  wants  should  be 
felt  by  the  grandson  and  successor  of  Genseric,  forth- 
with sent  these  presents  up  the  mountain,  but  by  no 
means  abated  the  watchfulness  of  his  blockade. 

The  siege  had  already  continued  for  upwards  of 
three  months,  and  several  Vandals  had  sunk  beneath 
its  hardships,  but  Gelimer  still  displayed  the  stubborn 
inflexibility  usual  to  despotic  rulers,  when  the  sight 
of  a  domestic  affliction  suddenly  induced  him  to  yield. 
In  the  hovel  where  he  sat  gloomily  brooding  over  his 
hopeless  fortunes,  a  Moorish  woman  was  preparing,  at 
the  fire,  some  coarse  dough.  Two  children,  her  son 
and  the  nephew  of  Gelimer,  were  watching  her  pro- 
gress with  the  eager  anxiety  of  faming  The  young 
Vandal  was  the  first  to  seize  the  precious  morsel,  still 
glowing  with  heat,  and  blackened  with  ashes,  when 
the  Moor,  by  blows  and  violence,  forced  it  from  his 
mouth.  So  fierce  a  struggle  for  food,  at  such  an  age, 
overcame  the  sternness  of  Gelimer.  He  agreed  to 
surrender  on  the  same  terms  lately  held  out  to  him, 
and  the  promises  of  Pharus  were  confirmed  by  the 
Roman  general,  who  sent  Cyprian  as  his  envoy  to 
Papua.  The  late  sovereign  of  Africa  reentered  his 
capital  as  a  suppliant  and  a  prisoner,  and  at  the  sub- 
urb of  Adas,  beheld  his  conqueror  for  the  first  time. 

With  the  capitulation  of  Gelimer,  the  Vandal  war 
was  at  an  end.  There  now  remained  to  Belisarius 
but  the  important  task  of  making  the  conquered  coun- 
tries permanently  useful  to  the  Romans.     But,  while 


BELISARIU?.  43 

occupied  in  this  design,  his  glory  having  provoked 
envy,  he  was  accused  to  Justinian  of  the  intention  of 
making  himself  king  over  the  territories  he  had  con- 
quered. With  the  weakness  of  a  little  mind,  the 
emperor  so  far  yielded  to  the  base  accusation  as  to 
send  a  message  to  Belisarius,  indicating  his  suspi- 
cions. The  latter  immediately  departed  from  Car- 
thage, and,  taking  with  him  his  spoils  and  captives, 
proceeded  to  Constantinople. 

This  ready  obedience  dissipated  the  suspicions  of 
the  emperor,  and  he  made  ample  and  prompt  repara- 
tion for  his  unfounded  jealousy.  Medals  were  struck 
by  his  orders,  bearing  on  one  side  the  effigy  of  the 
emperor,  and  on  the  other  that  of  the  victorious  gen- 
eral, encircled  by  the  inscription,  Belisarius ^  the  glory 
of  the  Romans.  Beside  this,  the  honors  of  a  triumph 
were  decreed  him,  the  first  ever  witnessed  in  the  East- 
ern capital. 

The  ceremony  was  in  the  highest  degree  imposing. 
The  triumphal  procession  marched  from  the  house 
of  Belisarius  to  the  hippodrome,"^  filled  with  exult- 
ing thousands,  where  Justinian  and  Theodora  sat 
enthroned.  Among  the  Vandal  captives,  Gelimer  was 
distinguished  by  the  purple  of  a  sovereign.  He  shed 
no  tears,  but  frequently  repeated  the  words  of  Solo- 
mon, "  Vanity  of  vanities  :  all  is  vanity."  When  he 
reached  the  imperial  throne,  and  was  commanded 
to  cast  aside  the  ensigns  of  royalty,  Belisarius  has- 
tened to  do  the  same,  to  show  him  that  he  was  to 
undergo  no  insult  as  a  prisoner,  but  only  to  yield  the 
customary  homage  of  a  subject.     We  may  pause  for 

*  A  space  where  the  chariot  races  were  exhibited. 


44 


BELISARIUS. 


a  moment  to  reflect  upon  the  caprices  of  fortune, 
which  had  raised  a  comedian,  in  the  person  of  Theo- 
dora, to  see  the  successor  of  Genseric  and  Scipio 
prostrate  as  slaves  before  her  footstool. 

Both  the  conqueror  and  captive  experienced  the 
effects  of  imperial  generosity.  The  former  received 
a  large  share  of  the  spoil  as  his  reward,  and  was 
named  consul  for  the  ensuing  year.  To  the  Vandal 
monarch,  an  extensive  estate  in  Galatia  was  assigned, 
to  which  he  retired,  and,  in  peaceful  obscurity,  spent 
the  remainder  of  his  days. 

We  must  now  turn  our  attention  to  Italy.  Theo- 
doric  the  Great,  the  natural  son  of  Theodomir,  king 
of  the  Ostrogoths,  became  the  master  of  Italy  toward 
the  close  of  the  fifth  century.  The  Gothic  dominion 
was  thus  established  in  the  ancient  seat  of  the  Ro- 
man empire,  and  the  king  of  the  Goths  was  seated 
upon  the  throne  of  the  Caesars. 

Theodoric  has  furnished  one  of  the  few  instances 
in  which  a  successful  soldier  has  abandoned  warlike 
pursuits  for  the  duties  of  civil  administration,  and, 
instead  of  seeking  power  by  his  arms,  has  devoted  him- 
self to  the  improvement  of  his  kingdom  by  a  peaceful 
policy.  Upright  and  active  in  his  conduct,  he  en- 
forced discipline  among  his  soldiers,  and  so  tempered 
his  general  kindness  by  acts  of  salutary  rigor,  that  he 
was  loved  as  if  indulgent,  yet  obeyed  as  if  severe. 
He  applied  himself  to  the  revival  of  trade,  the  support 
of  manufactures,  and  the  encouragement  of  agricul- 
ture. 

At  the  death  of  this  great  monarch,  in  526,  his 
grandson,  Athalaric,  then  only  ten  years  of  age,  be- 


*  BELISARIUS.  45 

came  king.  After  a  nominal  reign  of  eight  years,  he 
died  in  consequence  of  his  dissipations,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Theodatus,  the  nephew  of  Theodoric. 
This  prince  having  attained  the  throne  by  the  murder 
of  Amalasontha,  the  widow  of  Theodoric,  Justinian 
regarded  him  as  an  usurper  stained  with  an  atrocious 
crime,  and  therefore  determined  to  drive  him  from 
his  throne. 

Accordingly,  a  force  of  twelve  thousand  men  was 
despatched  to  Italy  under  Belisarius.  Landing  at 
Catania,  in  Sicily,  they  surprised  the  Goths,  and  had 
little  difficulty  in  reducing  the  island.  Fixing  his 
head  quarters  at  Syracuse,  he  was  making  prepara- 
tions to  enter  the  heart  of  Italy,  when  a  messenger 
came  to  inform  him  that  a  serious  insurrection  had 
broken  out  at  Carthage.  He  immediately  set  out  for 
that  place.  On  his  arrival  the  insurgents  fled,  but 
Belisarius  pursued  them,  overtook  them,  and,  though 
their  force  was  four  times  as  great  as  his  own,  they 
were  completely  defeated  in  a  pitched  battle.  Return- 
ing to  Carthage,  the  Roman  general  was  informed  by 
a  messenger  from  Sicily  that  a  formidable  mutiny 
had  broken  out  in  his  army  there.  He  immediately 
embarked,  and  soon  restored  his  troops  to  order  and 
discipline. 

The  rapid  conquest  of  Sicily  by  Belisarius  struck 
terror  into  the  heart  of  king  Theodatus,  who  was  weak 
by  nature,  and  depressed  by  age.  He  was  therefore 
induced  to  subscribe  an  ignominious  treaty  with  Jus- 
tinian, some  of  the  conditions  of  which  forcibly  dis- 
play the  pusillanimity  of  one  emperor,  and  the  vanity 
of  the  other.     Theodatus  promised  that  no  statue 


46  BELISAKIUS. 

should  be  raised  to  his  honor,  without  another  of  Jus- 
tinian at  his  right  hand,  and  that  the  imperial  name 
should  always  precede  his  own  in  the  acclamations 
of  the  people,  at  public  games  and  festivals  :  as  if  the 
shouts  of  the  rabble  were  matter  for  a  treaty ! 

But  even  this  humiliating  compact  was  not  suffi- 
cient for  the  grasping  avarice  of  Justinian.  He  re- 
quired of  Theodatus  the  surrender  of  his  throne, 
which  the  latter  promised;  but  before  the  compact 
could  be  carried  into  effect,  he  was  driven  from  his 
throne,  and  Vittiges,  a  soldier  of  humble  birth,  but 
great  energy  and  experience,  was  declared  his  suc- 
cessor. Establishing  his  head  quarters  at  Ravenna, 
the  Gothic  king  was  making  preparations  to  sustain 
his  cause,  when  Belisarius,  who  had  taken  Naples, 
was  invited  to  Rome  by  Pope  Sylverius.  Taking 
advantage  of  this  opportunity,  he  immediately  ad- 
vanced, and  triumphantly  entered  the  "  eternal  city." 

Rome  had  now  been  under  the  dominion  of  its 
Gothic  conquerors  for  sixty  years,  during  which  it 
had  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  peace  and  prosperity. 
It  had  been  the  object  of  peculiar  care,  attention,  and 
munificence,  and  had  received  the  respect  due  to  the 
ancient  mistress  of  the  world.  Still,  the  people  at 
large  looked  upon  their  rulers  as  foreigners  and  bar- 
barians, and  desired  the  return  of  the  imperial  sway, 
seeming  to  forget  that  they  were  preferring  a  foreign 
to  a  native  government. 

Belisarius  lost  no  time  in  repairing  the  fortifications 
of  Rome,  while  he  actively  extended  his  conquests  in 
the  southern  parts  of  Italy.  His  military  fame  was 
now  a  host,  and  most  of  the  towns  submitted,  either 


BELISARIUS.  47 

from  a  preference  of  the  Byzantine  government,  or 
respect  for  the  military  prowess  of  the  Koman  general. 

The  great  achievements  of  Belisarius  strike  us  with 
wonder,  when  we  consider  the  feeble  means  with 
which  they  were  accomplished.  His  force  at  the  out- 
set of  his  invasion  of  Italy  did  not  exceed  12,000 
men.  These  were  now  much  reduced  by  the  bloody 
siege  of  Naples,  and  by  his  subsequent  successes, 
which  made  it  necessary  to  supply  garrisons  for  the 
captured  towns. 

Vitiges,  in  his  Adriatic  capital,  had  spent  the  win- 
ter in  preparations,  and  w^hen  the  spring  arrived,  he 
set  forth  with  a  powerful  army.  Knowing  the  small 
force  of  Belisarius,  he  hurried  forward  towards  Rome, 
fearing  only  that  his  enemy  should  escape  by  flight. 
The  genius  of  Belisarius  never  shone  with  greater 
lustre  than  at  this  moment.  By  numerous  devices 
he  contrived  to  harass  the  Gothic  army  in  their  march, 
but  owing  to  the  flight  of  a  detachment  of  his  troops 
whom  he  had  stationed  at  one  of  the  towers,  to  delay 
their  progress,  they  at  last  came  upon  him  by  surprise. 

He  was  at  the  moment  without  the  city,  attended 
by  only  a  thousand  of  his  guards,  when  suddenly  he 
found  himself  surrounded  by  the  van  of  the  Gothic 
cavalry.  He  now  displayed  not  only  the  skill  of  a 
general,  but  the  personal  courage  and  prowess  of  a 
soldier.  Distinguished  by  the  charger  whom  he  had 
often  rode  in  battle — a  bay  with  a  white  face — he 
was  seen  in  the  foremost  ranks,  animating  his  men  to 
the  conflict.  *'  That  is  Belisarius,"  exclaimed  some 
Italian  deserters,  who  knew  him.  "  Aim  at  the  bay ! " 
was  forthwith  the  cry  through  the  Gothic  squadrons ; 


48  BELISARIUS. 

and  a  cloud  of  arrows  was  soon  aimed  at  the  conspic- 
uous mark.  It  seemed  as  if  the  fate  of  Italy  was  felt 
to  be  suspended  upon  a  single  life — so  fierce  was  the 
struggle  to  kill  or  capture  the  Koman  leader. 

Amid  the  deadly  strife,  however,  Belisarius  re- 
mained unhurt ;  and  it  is  said  that  more  of  the  army 
fell  that  day  by  his  single  arm,  than  by  that  of  any 
other  Roman.  His  guards  displayed  the  utmost  cour- 
age and  devotion  to  his  person,  rallying  around  him, 
and  raising  their  bucklers  on  every  side,  to  ward  off 
the  showers  of  missiles  that  flew  with  deadly  aim  at 
his  breast.  Not  less  than  a  thousand  of  the  enemy 
fell  in  the  conflict — a  number  equal  to  the  w^hole  Ro- 
man troop  engaged  in  the  battle.  The  Goths  at 
length  gave  way,  and  Belisarius,  with  his  guards,  re- 
entered the  city. 

On  the  morrow,  March  12th,  A.  D.  537,  the  memo- 
rable siege  of  Rome  began.  Finding  it  impossible, 
even  with  their  vast  army,  to  encircle  the  entire  walls 
of  the  city,  which  were  twelve  miles  in  length,  the 
Goths  selected  five  of  the  fourteen  gates,  and  invested 
them.  They  now  cut  through  the  aqueducts,  in 
order  to  stop  the  supply  of  water,  and  several  of  them, 
having  never  been  repaired,  remain  to  this  day,  ex- 
tending into  the  country,  and  seeming  like  the  "  out- 
stretched and  broken  limbs  of  an  expiring  giant." 

Though  the  baths  of  the  city  were  stopped,  the 
Tiber  supplied  the  people  with  water  for  all  needful 
purposes.  The  resources  and  activity  of  Belisarius 
knew  no  bounds :  yet  he  had  abundant  occasion  for 
all  the  advantages  these  could  supply.  The  relative 
smallness  of  his  force,  the  feebleness  of  the  defences 


BELISARII7S.  49 

the  fickleness  and  final  disafTection  of  the  people,  the 
intrigues  of  Vittiges,  and  his  vastly  superior  army, 
constituted  a  web  of  difficulties  which  would  have 
overwhelmed  any  other  than  a  man  whose  genius 
could  extort  good  from  evil,  and  convert  weakness  into 
strength. 

For  a  whole  year,  the  encircling  walls  of  Eome 
were  the  scenes  of  almost  incessant  attack  and  de- 
fence. The  fertile  genius  of  Vittiges  suggested  a 
thousand  expedients,  and  the  number  as  well  as  cour- 
age of  his  troops  enabled  him  to  plan  and  execute  a 
variety  of  daring  schemes.  Yet  he  was  always  baf- 
fled by  his  vigilant  rival,  and  his  most  elaborate 
devices  were  rendered  fruitless  by  the  superior  genius 
of  the  Roman  general.  At  last,  on  the  21st  of  March, 
A.  D.  538,  foreseeing  that  Belisarius  was  about  to 
receive  reinforcements,  and  despairing  of  success  in 
the  siege,  Vittiges  withdrew  his  army,  suffering  in 
his  retreat  a  fearful  massacre,  from  a  sally  of  the 
Roman  troops. 

Vittiges  retired  to  Ravenna,  and  Belisarius  soon 
invested  it.  While  he  was  pressing  the  siege,  Jus- 
tinian, probably  alarmed  by  the  threats  of  the  Persian 
king,  entered  into  a  treaty  with  the  ambassadors  of 
Vittiges,  by  which  he  agreed  to  a  partition  of  Italy, 
taking  one  half  himself,  and  allowing  the  Gothic  king 
to  retain  the  other  portion.  Belisarius  refused  to  rat* 
ify  this  treaty,  and  soon  after,  was  pressed  by  the 
Goths  to  become  their  king.  Vittiges  even  joined  in 
this  request,  and  Belisarius  had  now  the  easy  oppor- 
tunity of  making  himself  the  emperor  of  the  West, 
without  the  remotest  fear  of  failure.      But  he  was 

D 


50  BELISARIUS. 

too  deeply  impressed  with  his  oath  of  allegiance,  to 
allow  him  to  entertain  a  treacherous  design  toward 
his  sovereign,  and  he  rejected  the  tempting  offer. 
The  merit  of  his  fidelity  under  these  circumstances, 
is  heightened  by  the  consideration  that  he  had  refused 
the  ratification  of  the  treaty,  and  was  well  aware  that 
reproach,  or  even  hostility,  might  await  him  at  Con- 
stantinople. 

Soon  after  these  events,  Ravenna  capitulated,  and 
Belisarius  became  its  master.  His  fame  was  now  at 
its  height ;  but  this  only  served  to  inflame  the  envy 
of  his  rivals  at  Constantinople.  These,  insidiously 
working  upon  the  suspicious  temper  of  Justinian,  in- 
duced him  to  command  the  return  of  Belisarius  to 
Constantinople.  With  prompt  obedience,  he  embarked 
at  Ravenna,  carrying  with  him  his  Gothic  captives 
and  treasure.  After  five  years  of  warfare,  from  the 
foot  of  Etna  to  the  banks  of  the  Po,  during  which  he 
had  subdued  nearly  the  same  extent  of  country  which 
had  been  acquired  by  the  Romans  in  the  first  five 
centuries  from  the  building  of  that  city,  he  arrived  at 
Constantinople. 

The  voice  of  envy  was  silenced  for  a  time,  and 
Belisarius  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  army 
now  about  to  proceed  against  the  Persians.  The  cap- 
tive monarch  of  the  Goths  was  received  with  generous 
courtesy  by  the  emperor,  and  an  ample  estate  was 
allotted  to  him  in  Asia.  Justinian  gazed  with  admi- 
ration on  the  strength  and  beauty  of  the  Gothic  cap- 
tives— their  fair  complexions,  auburn  locks,  and  lofty 
stature.     A  great  number  of  these,  attracted  by  the 


BELISARIUS.  51 

fame   and  character   of  Belisarius,  enlisted   in   his 
guards. 

gin  the  spring  of  the  year  540,  Chosroes  or  Nush- 
irvan,  the  Persian  king,  invaded  the  Eoman  prov- 
inces in  the  east.  The  next  year  Belisarius  proceeded 
against  him,  and  took  his  station  at  Dara.  Here, 
instead  of  a  well-appointed  army,  he  found  only  a 
confused  and  discordant  mass  of  undisciplined  men. 
After  various  operations,  being  baffled  by  the  treach- 
ery or  incapacity  of  his  subalterns,  he  was  obliged  to 
retreat,  and  closed  a  fruitless  campaign,  by  placing 
his  men  in  winter  quarters. 

Being  recalled  to  Constantinople,  he  went  thither, 
but  took  the  field  early  in  the  spring,  with  the  most 
powerful  army  he  had  ever  commanded.  Nushirvan 
advanced  into  Syria,  but,  thwarted  by  the  masterly 
manoeuvres  of  Belisarius,  he  was  at  last  obliged  to 
retreat.  Soon  after,  the  Roman  general  being  again 
recalled  by  Justinian,  the  most  fatal  disasters  befel 
the  Roman  army. 

During  these  Persian  campaigns,  the  political  secu- 
rity, as  well  as  the  domestic  happiness  of  Belisarius, 
were  shaken  by  the  misconduct  of  his  wife.  She 
had  long  been  engaged  in  an  intrigue  with  Theodo- 
sius,  the  young  soldier  newly  baptized  as  an  auspicious 
omen  in  the  galley  of  the  general,  upon  his  departure 
for  Africa.  Though  told  of  this,  Belisarius  had  been 
pacified  by  the  protestations  and  artifices  of  Antonina ; 
but  while  he  was  absent  in  Asia  Minor,  she,  being 
left  in  Constantinople,  pursued  her  licentious  career 
with  little  scruple. 

Her  son  Photius,  a  gallant  young  soldier,  being  a 


52  BELISARIUS. 

check  upon  her  conduct,  hecame  the  object  of  her 
hatred.  While  at  the  distance  of  a  thousand  miles, 
during  the  Persian  campaign,  he  still  experienced  tl^ 
malignant  influence  of  her  intrigues,  and,  urged  by  a 
sense  of  duty  to  his  step-father,  made  him  acquainted 
with  his  mother's  depravity.  When  she  afterwards 
joined  her  husband  on  the  frontier,  he  caused  her  to 
be  imprisoned,  and  sent  Photius  towards  Ephesus  to 
inflict  summary  punishment  upon  Theodosius.  The 
latter  was  taken  captive  by  Photius,  and  borne  to 
Cilicia. 

Antonina,  by  her  convenient  intrigues  in  behalf  of 
Theodora,  had  laid  her  under  great  obligations,  and 
obtained  the  greatest  influence  over  her.  The  em- 
press, therefore,  now  interfered  to  save  her  friend. 
Positive  injunctions  were  sent  to  Cilicia,  and  both 
Photius  and  Theodosius  were  brought  to  Constanti- 
nople. The  former  was  cast  into  a  dungeon  and  tor- 
tured at  the  rack ;  the  latter  was  received  with  dis- 
tinction; but  he  soon  expired  from  illness.  Photius, 
after  a  third  escape  from  prison,  proceeded  to  Jeru- 
salem, where  he  took  the  habit  of  a  monk,  and  finally 
attained  the  rank  of  abbot. 

Belisarius  and  Antonina  were  summoned  to  Con- 
stantinople, and  the  empress  commanded  the  injured 
husband  to  abstain  from  the  punishment  of  his  wife. 
He  obeyed  this  order  of  his  sovereign.  She  next  re- 
quired a  reconciliation  at  his  hands  ;  but  he  refused  to 
comply  with  a  demand  which  no  sovereign  had  a 
right  to  make.  He,  therefore,  remained  at  Constan- 
tinople, under  the  secret  displeasure  of  Theodora  and 


BELISARITJS.  53 

Justinian,  who  only  wanted  some  plausible  pretext  to 
accomplish  his  ruin. 

The  invasion  of  Nushirvan,  in  the  ensuing  spring, 
impelled  the  terrified  emperor  to  lay  aside  his  ani- 
mosity, and  restore  the  hero  to  the  direction  of  the 
eastern  armies ;  hut  in  this  campaign,  his  former 
offence  was  aggravated,  and  the  glory  of  saving  the 
East  was  outweighed  by  the  guilt  of  frankness.  Jus- 
tinian was  recovering  from  a  dangerous  illness ;  a 
rumor  of  his  death  had  reached  the  Roman  camp, 
and  Belisarius  gave  an  opinion  in  favor  of  the  em- 
peror's nearest  kinsman  as  his  successor,  instead  of 
acknowledging  the  pretensions  of  Theodora  to  the 
throne.  This  declaration  inflamed  with  equal  anger 
the  aspiring  wife  and  the  uxorious  husband. 

Buzes,  the  second  in  command,  who  had  concurred 
in  these  views,  was  confined  in  a  subterranean  dun- 
geon, so  dark  that  the  difference  of  day  and  night  was 
never  apparent  to  its  inmate.  Belisarius  himself  was 
recalled,  with  flattering  professions  of  confidence  and 
friendship,  lest  resentment  should  urge  him  to  rebel- 
lion ;  but  on  his  arrival  at  Constantinople,  the  mask 
was  thrown  aside ;  he  was  degraded  from  the  rank 
of  general  of  the  East ;  a  commission  was  despatched 
into  Asia  to  seize  his  treasures  ;  and  his  personal 
guards,  who  had  followed  his  standard  through  so 
many  battles,  were  removed  from  his  command. 

It  was  with  mingled  feelings  of  compassion  and 
surprise,  that  the  people  beheld  the  forlorn  appearance 
of  the  general  as  he  entered  Constantinople,  and  rode 
along  the  streets,  with  a  small  and  squalid  train. 
Proceeding  to  the  gates  of  the  palace,  he  was  exposed 


54  BELISARIUS. 

during  the  whole  day  to  the  scoffs  and  insuhs  of  the 
rabble.  He  was  received  by  the  emperor  and  Theo- 
dora with  angry  disdain,  and  when  he  withdrew,  in 
the  evening,  to  his  lonely  palace,  he  frequently  turned 
round,  expecting  to  see  the  appointed  assassins  ad- 
vancing upon  him. 

In  the  evening,  after  sunset,  a  letter  was  brought 
him  from  Theodora,  declaring  that  his  life  was  grant- 
ed and  a  portion  of  his  fortune  spared  at  the  inter- 
cession of  his  wife,  and  she  trusted  that  his  future 
conduct  would  manifest  his  gratitude  to  his  deliverer. 
The  favorable  moments  of  surprise  and  gratitude  were 
improved  by  Antonina  with  her  usual  skill.  Thus, 
by  the  artifices  of  two  designing  women,  the  conqueror 
of  armies  was  subdued,  and  Belisarius  once  more 
became  the  duped  and  submissive  husband. 

A  fine  of  three  hundred  pounds  weight  of  gold  was 
levied  upon  the  property  of  Belisarius,  and  he  was  suf- 
fered for  many  months  to  languish  in  obscurity.  In 
544,  however,  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
war  in  Italy,  whither  he  soon  proceeded.  Here,  in 
his  operations  against  far  superior  forces,  he  displayed 
the  same  genius  as  before,  and  in  February,  547,  he 
again  entered  Rome.  He  pursued  the  war  with  va- 
rious fortune ;  but  at  last,  finding  his  means  entirely 
inadequate  to  the  necessities  of  the  contest,  he  begged 
of  the  emperor  either  reii'  /or  nents  or  recall.  En- 
grossed by  religious  quarre  s,  Justinian  took  the  easier 
course,  and  adopted  the  latter.  Thus,  after  having 
desolated  Italy  with  all  the  horrors  of  war  for  several 
years,  he  now  abandoned  it,  from  mere  weakness  and 
caprice. 


BELISARIUS.  55- 

Belisarius  returned  to  Constantinople,  and  for  seve- 
ral years  his  life  affords  no  remarkable  occurrence. 
He  continued  in  the  tranquil  enjoyment  of  opulence 
and  dignities ;  but,  in  the  year  559,  various  warlike 
tribes  beyond  the  Danube,  known  under  the  general 
name  of  Bulgarians,  marched  southward,  and  deso- 
lated several  provinces  by  sword,  fire,  and  plunder. 
Zabergan,  their  enterprising  leader,  having  passed  the 
frozen  Danube  in  the  winter,  detached  one  portion 
of  his  army  for  the  pillage  of  Greece,  and  the  other 
against  the  capital. 

So  sudden  and  bold  an  aggression  filled  Constan- 
tinople with  helpless  and  despairing  terror.  The 
people  and  the  senators  were  agitated  with  fear,  and 
the  emperor  sat  trembling  in  his  palace.  In  this 
general  confusion  and  affright,  all  eyes  were  turned 
with  hope  to  the  conqueror  of  Africa  and  Italy. 
Though  his  constitution  was  broken  by  his  military 
labors,  his  heart  was  alive  to  the  call  of  his  country, 
and  Belisarius  prepared  to  crown  his  glorious  life  by 
a  last  and  decisive  battle.  He  resumed  his  rusty  ar- 
mor, collected  a  handful  of  his  scattered  veterans,  and 
in  the  return  of  martial  spirit  he  seemed  to  shake  off 
the  weakness  of  decrepitude. 

Sallying  from  the  city  with  three  hundred  mounted 
men,  he  met  Zabergan  at  the  head  of  two  thousand 
cavalry.  Selecting  a  favorable  position,  he  withstood 
the  onset,  and,  seeming  to  recover  the  powers  of  his 
youth,  he  astonished  all  around  him  by  his  intrepidity 
and  skill.  After  a  severe  and  bloody  struggle,  the 
Bulgarians  were  driven  back  in  the  utmost  disorder ; 
four  hundred  fell  on  the  field,  and  Zabergan  himself 


56  BELISARITJS. 

escaped  with  difficulty.  The  whole  army  of  barba- 
rians, amounting  to  many  thousands,  were  seized  with 
contagious  fear,  raised  their  camp,  and  retreated  to  the 
north. 

Belisarius  was  preparing  for  a  close  pursuit,  when 
again  his  enemies  awaked  the  suspicions  of  Justinian 
by  suggesting  that  he  was  aiming  at  popular  favor 
with  disloyal  views.  The  enthusiastic  praises  of  his 
heroic  conduct,  by  the  people,  turned  even  the  em- 
peror's heart  to  jealousy,  and  he  chose  rather  to  pur- 
chase the  departure  of  the  barbarians  by  tribute,  than 
to  permit  Belisarius  to  obtain  new  laurels  by  chastis- 
ing their  audacity. 

From  this  period,  Belisarius  continued  under  the 
displeasure  of  Justinian,  whose  suspicious  temper 
seemed  to  grow  more  virulent  as  his  faculties  sunk  in 
the  dotage  of  years.  In  563,  several  conspiracies 
against  the  life  of  Justinian  were  detected,  and  under 
torture,  some  of  the  domestics  of  Belisarius  accused 
their  master  of  participation.  This  testimony,  dis- 
proved by  the  long  life  and  the  habitually  submissive 
loyalty  of  Belisarius,  was  sufficient  for  his  conviction. 
He  was  stripped  of  his  fortune,  deprived  of  his  guards, 
and  detained  as  a  close  prisoner  in  his  palace. 

The  other  conspirators  were  condemned  and  exe- 
cuted ;  but,  in  consideration  of  the  past  services  of 
Belisarius,  the  decree  of  death  was  changed  for  that 
of  blindness,  and  his  eyes  were  accordingly  put  out."^ 


*  This  portion  of  the  story  of  Belisarius  has  been  the  sub- 
ject of  controversy.  It  has  been  doubted  by  Gibbon  and  other 
historians,  whether  the  infliction  of  blindness  upon  Belisarius 


^^  OF  THB         ^r     s^ 


BELISARIUS.      ^v      ^  ,^-^ 

He  was  now  restored  to  liberty,  but, 
means  of  subsistence,  he  was  compelled  to  beg  his 
bread  before  the  gates  of  the  convent  of  Laurus. 
There  he  stood  with  a  wooden  platter  which  he  held 
out  for  charity,  exclaiming  to  the  passers-by,  "  Give  a 
penny  to  Belisarius  the  general ! " 

The  affecting  scene  was  long  impressed  upon  the 
recollection  of  the  people  ;  and  it  would  seem  that  this 
spectacle  of  persecuted  merit  aroused  some  dangerous 
feelings  of  indignation  and  pity,  and  he  was,  therefore, 
removed  from  public  view.  Belisarius  was  brought 
back  to  his  former  palace,  and  a  portion  of  his  treas- 
ures was  allotted  for  his  use.  His  death,  which  was 
doubtless  hastened  by  the  grief  and  hardships  of  his 
lot,  occurred  in  565  ;  and  Antonina,  who  survived 
him,  devoted  the  remains  of  her  life  and  fortune  to 
the  cloister. 

In  person,  Belisarius  was  tall  and  commanding; 
his  features  regular  and  noble.  When  he  appeared 
in  the  streets  of  Constantinople,  he  never  failed  to 
attract  the  admiration  of  the  people.  As  a  military 
leader,  he  was  enterprising,  firm,  and  fearless.  His 
conception  was  clear,  and  his  judgment  rapid  and 
decisive.  His  conquests  were  achieved  with  smaller 
means  than  any  other  of  like  extent  recorded  in  his- 
tory.   He  experienced  reverses  in  the  field  ;  but  never 


and  his  beggary,  were  not  mere  traditionary  fables.  But  Lord 
Mahon,  in  his  excellent  life  of  the  great  Roman  general,  from 
which  we  have  drawn  the  preceding  account,  appears  to  have 
established  their  authenticity.  The  beautiful  tale  of  Belisarius, 
by  Marmontel,  is  fictitious  in  many  of  its  details. 


58  BELISARIUS. 

did  he  fail  without  strong  and  sufficient  reason.  His 
superior  tactics  covered  his  defeats,  retrieved  his  losses, 
and  prevented  his  enemies  from  reaping  the  fruits  of 
victory.  Never,  even  in  the  most  desperate  emer- 
gencies, was  he  known  to  lose  his  courage  or  presence 
of  mind. 

Though  living  in  a  barbarous  and  dissolute  age, 
Belisarius  possessed  many  shining  virtues.  In  the 
march  of  his  armies,  he  would  avoid  the  trampling 
of  the  corn-fields,  nor  would  he  allow  his  soldiers 
even  to  gather  apples  from  the  trees  without  making 
payment  to  the  villagers.  After  a  victory,  it  was  his 
first  care  to  extend  mercy  and  protection  to  the  van- 
quished. The  gift  of  a  golden  bracelet  or  collar 
rewarded  any  valorous  achievement  among  his  troops  ; 
the  loss  of  a  horse  or  weapon  was  immediately  sup- 
plied from  his  private  funds  ;  the  wounded  ever  found 
in  him  a  father  and  a  friend.  To  all,  he  was  open 
and  easy  of  access,  and  by  his  courteous  demeanor 
often  comforted,  where  he  could  not  relieve.  From 
his  generosity,  one  would  have  deemed  him  rich ; 
from  his  manners,  poor.  His  private  virtues  promoted 
and  confirmed  the  discipline  of  his  soldiers.  None 
ever  saw  him  flushed  with  wine,  nor  could  the  charms 
of  his  fairest  captives  overcome  his  conjugal  fidelity. 

But  the  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  character 
of  Belisarius  is  his  steadfast  loyalty,  and  the  noble 
magnanimity  with  which  he  overlooked  the  suspicious 
meanness  and  ingratitude  of  his  sovereign.  It  is 
impossible  to  find  in  history  another  instance  of  an 
individual  so  strongly  induced  to  rebellion  by  treach- 
erous treatment  on  the  part  of  his  country,  and  the 


BELISARIUS. 


59 


opportunity  of  placing  a  crown  upon  his  head  with- 
out the  risk  of  effectual  opposition,  who  refused,  from 
patriotic  motives,  the  double  temptation. 

That  Belisarius  had  faults,  is  not  to  be  denied.  His 
bliad  submission  to  his  wife  displayed  great  weakness, 
and  led  him  into  most  of  the  errors  which  are  charged 
upon  his  public  career.  In  his  last  campaign  in  Italy, 
his^  wealth  having  been  exhausted  by  an  enormous 
fine,  he  endeavored  to  repair  his  losses  by  imitating 
the  rapacity  universally  practised  by  other  command- 
ers of  that  period.  He  thus  inflicted  upon  his  memory 
a  serious  stain,  and  showed  that,  however  he  was 
exalted  above  the  age,  he  was  still  a  man.  His  whole 
career  affords  a  striking  moral,  coinciding  with  the 
emphatic  language  of  Scripture,  "  Put  not  thy  trust 
in  princes." 


I 


ATTILA,   KING  OF   THE   HUNS. 

This  renowned  barbarian  was  tbe  son  of  Mandras, 
and  of  a  royal  line.  He  served  in  the  army  of  his  un- 
cle, Roas,  who  was  king  of  the  Huns.  At  his  death, 
in  483,  he  succeeded  him,  sharing  the  throne  with 
his  brother  Bleda.  The  Huns  at  this  period  were 
very  numerous  and  warlike.  They  extended  ovef  "the 
southern  part  of  Russia,  and  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  present  empire  of  Austria.  Attila's  kingdom 
lay  between  the  Carpathian  mountains  and  the  Dan- 
ube, and  was  called  Pannonia.  ^ 

At  this  period,  the  Roman  empire  had  been  for 
more  than  a  century  divided  into  the  Eastern  and 
Western  empire.  Theodosius  H.  was  now  emperor 
of  the  former,  and  Constantinople  its  capital,  while 


ATTILA. 


61 


Valentinian  III.  was  emperor  of  the  latter,  and  Rome, 
or  Ravenna,  the  seat  of  his  government. 

Both  branches  of  the  Roman  empire  were  now 
sunk  in  the  lap  of  luxury.  They  were  spread  over 
with  splendid  cities,  and  enriched  with  all  the  refine- 
ments of  art,  and  all  the  spoils  gathered  from  every 
quarter  of  the  world.  These  offered  a  tempting  in- 
ducement to  the  fierce  and  hungry  barbarians  of  the 
north.  I  Alaric^  had  shown  the  way  to  Rome  a  few 
years  before,  and  taught  the  weakness  of  the  queen  of 
the  world.  Constantinople  was  not  likely  to  be  an 
inferior  or  more  inaccessible  prize.  Attil^'s  domin- 
ions bordered  upon  those  of  the  two  empires,  and  the 
distance  to  either  capital  was  not  more  than  five  or 
six  hundred  miles. 

Among  the  first  achievements  of  the  two  brothers, 
they  threatened  the  Eastern  empire  with  their  armies, 
and  twice  compelled  the  weak  Theodosius  to  pur- 

*  Alaric  was  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  those  northern 
chiefs  who  successively  overran  Italy,  during  the  decline  of  the 
Western  empire,  and  the  first  who  gained  possession  of  impe- 
rial Rome.  He  learned  the  art  of  war  under  the  celebrated 
emperor  of  the  East,  Theodosius,  who  curbed  the  depredations 
of  the  Goths.  At  his  death,  Alaric  became  their  leader,  and 
overran  Greece,  A.  D.  396.  In  the  year  403,  he  entered  Italy 
with  a  powerful  army,  but  was  defeated,  and  retired  to  his 
own  country.  In  410,  he  again  entered  Italy,  besieged  and  took 
Rome,  which  he  entered  at  midnight,  and  gave  it  up  to  plunder 
and  pillage  for  six  days.  He  now  led  his  troops  into  the  south- 
ern provinces  of  Italy,  but  died  suddenly  while  he  was  besieging 
Cozenza.  He  was  buried  in  the  channel  of  the  river  Bucento, 
in  Naples,  that  his  remains  might  not  be  found  by  the  Romans. 
To  perform  the  burial,  the  water  of  the  river  was  turned  out 
of  its  course. 


62  ATTILA. 

chase  peace  on  humiliating  terms.  They  then  ex- 
tended their  dominions  both  "east  and  west,  until  they 
reigned  over  the  whole  country  from  the  Baltic  to 
the  Caspian  Sea.  *. 

Attila  was  regarded  by  the  Huns  as  their  bravest 
warrior,  and  most  skilful  general.  He  performed 
such  feats  of  valor,  and  success  so  uniformly  attended 
his  career,  that  the  ignorant  and  superstitious  people 
were  inclined  to  think  him  more  than  mortal.  He 
took  advantage  of  this  feeling,  and  pretended  that  he 
had  found  the  sword  of  their  tutelar  god,  and  that 
with  this  Jie  intended  to  conquer  the  whole  .earth. 
Being  unwilling  to  hold  a  divided  sceptre,  he  caused 
his  brother  Bleda  to  be  murdered,  and  when  he  gave 
out  that  it  was  done  by  the  command  of  God,  the 
event  was  celebrated  with  the  greatest  demonstrations 
of  joy. 

Being  now  sole  master  of  a  warlike  people,  his 
ambition  made  him  the  terror  of  all  the  surrounding 
nations.  It  was  a  saying  of  his  own,  that  no  grass 
grew  where  his  horse  had  set  his  foot,  and  the  title 
of  the  "  Scourge  of  God "  was  assigned  to  him,  as 
characterizing  his  career.  He  exten^ded  his  domin- 
ions over  the  whole  of  Germany  and  Scythia.  The 
Vandals,  the  Ostrogoths,  and  a  part  of  the  Franks, 
acknowledged  his  sway,  and  both  the  Eastern  and 
Western  empires  paid  him  tribute.  Historians  tell 
us  that  his  army  amounted  to  700,000  men. 

Having  heard  of  the  riches  of  Persia,  he  directed 
his  march  against  it.  Being  defeated  on  the  plains 
of  Armenia,  he  turned  back,  to  satisfy  his  desire  of 
plunder  in  the  dominions  of  the  emperor  of  the  East. 


ATTILA.  63 

Regardless  of  existing  treaties,  he  laid  waste  the 
whole  country  from  the  Black  Sea  to  the  Adriatic. 
In  three  bloody  engagements,  he  defeated  the  troops 
sent  against  him  by  Theodosius.  Thrace,  Macedo- 
nia, and  Greece,  were  overrun  by  the  savage  robber, 
and  seventy  flourishing  cities  were  utterly  destroyed. 

Theodosius  was  now  at  the  mercy  of  the  victor, 
and  was  obliged  to  sue  for  peace.  One  of  the  sei?^ 
vants  of  Attila,  named  Edekon,  was  tempted  by  an 
agent  of  the  emperor  to  undertake  the  assassination 
of  his  mg,ster,  on  his  return  to  Pannonia ;  but,  at  the 
moment  he  was  about  to  accomplish  his  object,  his 
courage  fail-ed  him,  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  Attila, 
confessed  his  criminal  design,  and  disclosed  the  plot. 
Constantinople  trembled  at  the  idea  of  Attila's  re- 
venge ;  but  he  was  contented  with  upbraiding  Theo- 
dosius, and  the^  execution  of  Crisapheus,  who  had 
drawn  his  servant  into  the  scheme.  ^ 

Priscus,  a  Roman  historian,  who  was  an  ambassa- 
dor to  Attila  in  the  year  448,  gives  an  interesting 
account  of  the  king  and  his  people.  He  found  the 
palace  in  the  midst  of  a  large  village.  The  royal 
edifice  was  entirely  of  wood :  the  houses  of  the  Huns 
wefre  also  of  wood,  sometimes  mixed  with  mortar 
made  of  earth.  The  only  stone  building  was  a  set 
of  baths.  The  wooden  pillars  of  the  palace  were 
carved  and  polished,  and  the  ambassador  could  dis- 
cover some  evidence  of  taste  in  the  workmanship,  as 
well  as  barbarous  magnificence  in  the  display  of  rich 
spoils  taken  from  more  civilized  nations. 

They  were  soon  invited  to  a  sumptuous  entertain- 
ment, in  which  the  guests  were  all  served  upon  uten- 


64  ATTILA. 

« 

sils  of  silver  and  gold ;  but  a  dish  of  plain  meat  was 
set  before  the  king  on  a  wooden  trencher,  pf  which 
he  partook  very  sparingly.  His  beverage  was  equally 
simple  and  frugal.  The  rest  of  the  company  were 
excited  into  loud  and  frequent  laughter  by  the  fantas- 
tic extravagances  of  two  buffoons ;  but  Attila  pre- 
served his  usually  inflexible  gravity.  A  secret  agent 
in  the  embassy  was  charged  with  the  disgraceful 
task  of  procuring  the  assassination  of  this  formidable 
enemy.  Attila  was  acquainted  with  this,  which  was 
the  real  object  of  the  mission,  but  he  dismissed  the 
culprit,  as  well  as  his  innocent  companions,  uninjured. 
The  emperor  Theodosius  was  compelled,  however, 
to  atone  for  his  base  attempt,  by  a  second  embassy, 
loaded  with  magnificent  presents,  which  the  king  of 
the  Huns  was  prevailed  upon  to  accept.  Theodosius 
died  not  long  after,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  more 
virtuous  and  able  Marcian.  ^ 

Attila  was  at  this  time  collecting  an  enormous 
army,  and  threatened  both  divisions  of  the  Roman 
'  world  at  once.  To  each  emperor  he  sent  the  haughty 
^message,  "  Attila,  my  lord  and  thy  lord,  commands 
thee  immediately  to  prepare  a  palace  for  his  recep- 
tion ! "  To  this  insult,  he  added  a  demand  upon  the 
emperor  for  the  remainder  of  the  tribute  due  from 
Theodosius.  Marcian's  reply  was  in  the  same  laconid 
style :  *'  I  have  gold  for  my  friends,  and  steel  for  my 
enemies !  '* 

Attila  determined  to  make  war  first  on  Valentinian. 
Honoria,  the  emperor's  sister,  who  had  been  guilty 
of  some  youthful  error,  and  was  consequently  confined 
in  a  convent,  had  sent  Attila  a  ring,  offering  to  be- 
come his  wife.      It  wels  to  claim  her  and  half  the 


ATTILA.  65 

empire  as  her  dower,  that  Attila  professed  to  be  mak- 
ing these  formidable  preparations.  At  last,  he  ap- 
peared to  accept  the  excuse  of  Theodosius  for  not 
allowing  his  sister  to  become  his  wife,  and  speedily 
marched  with  a  prodigious  force  to  the  westward. 
He  set  out  in  midwinter,  and  did  not  pause  till  he 
reached  the  Rhine.  Having  defeated  the  Franks,  he 
cut  down  whole  forests  to  make  rafts  for  his  army  to 
cross  the  river,  and  now,  throwing  off  the  mask,  en- 
tered Gaul,  a  dependency  of  Home.  .^ 

The  horrors  of  his  march  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  ■, 
describe.  Everything  was  destroyed  that  came  in 
his  way.  Before  him  were  terror  and  despair ;  behind, 
a  broad  track  marked  with  desolatiOjp,  ruin  and  death. 
He  proceeded  in  his  victorious  career,  till  he  reached 
the  ancient  town  of  Orleans.  Here  an  obstinate 
defence  was  offered.  The  combined  armies  of  Rome, 
under  the  celebrated  JEtius,  and  the  Goths  under  The- 
odoric,  attacked  him  here,  and  compelled  him  to  raise 
the  siege.  He  retreated  to  Champaign,  and  waited 
for  them  in  the  plain  of  Chalons.  The  two  armies 
soon  approached  each  other. 

Anxious  to  know  the  event  of  the  coming  battle, 
Attila  consulted  the  sorcerers,  who  foretold  his  defeat^^ 
Though  greatly  alarmed,  he  concealed  his  feelings, 
and  rode  among  his  warriors,  animating  them  for  the 
impending  struggle.  Inflamed  by  his  ardor,  the  Huns 
were  eager  for  the  contest.  Both  armies  fought 
bravely.  At  length  the  ranks  of  the  Romans  and 
Gauls  were  broken,  and  Attila  felt  assured  of  victory, 
when,  suddenly,  Thorismond,  son  of  Theodoric,  swept 
down  like  an  avalanche  from  the  neighboring  heights 


66  ATTILA. 

upon  the  Huns.  He  threw  them  into  disorder,  spread 
death  through  their  ranks,  and  Attila,  pressed  on  all 
sides,  escaped  to  his  camp  with  the  utmost  difficulty. 

This  was  the  bloodiest  battle  ever  fought  in  Europe, 
for  106,000  men  lay  dead  on  the  field.  Theodoric 
was  slain,  ^nd  Attila,  who  had  gathered  his  treasures 
into  a  heap,  in  order  to  burn  himself  with  them  in 
case  he  was  reduced  to  extremities,  was  left  unex- 
pectedly to  make  his  retreat.  v»^'v 

Having  returned  to  Hungary  and  reinforced  his 
army,  he  proceeded  to  repeat  his  demand  for  the  hand 
of  Honoria.  He  mastered  the  unguarded  passes  of 
the  Alps,  and,  in  452,  carried  devastation  into  the 
north  of  Italy,  ^t  last  he  approached  the  city  of 
Rome,  when  a  sj^pplicatory  embassy  met  him.  Pope 
Leo  I.  being  at  its  head.  The  eloquence  of  the  pon- 
tifT,  united  to  prudential  considerations,  prevailed,  and 
the  city  was  saved;  Attila  returning  to  his  home 
beyond  the  Danube.  The  Romans  looked  upon  this 
preservation  as  a  miracle,  and  they  have  preserved  a 
legend  that  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  appeared  to  the 
barbarian,  arid  threatened  him  with  instant  death,  if 
he  did  not  accept  the  proffered  terms. 

Attila  now  soothed  himself  by  adding  the  beautiful 
Ildico  to  his  nun!erous  wives,  whom  he  wedded  with 
all  due  ceremony.  On  this  occasion  he  gave  himself 
up  to  licentiousness,  but  in  the  morning  after  his  mar- 
•  riage,  he  was  found  dead  in  his  tent,  and  covered  with 
blood,  Ildico  sitting  veiled  by  his  side.  The  story 
went  abroad  that  he  had  burst  a  blood-vessel,  and  died 
in  consequence,  but  a  common  suspicion  is  enter- 
tained that  he  was  stabbed  by  his  bride. 


ATTILA. 


67 


fhe  news  of  Attila's  death  spread  terror  and  sor- 
row among  his  army.  His  body  was  enclosed  in 
three  coffins, — the  first  of  gold,  the  second  of  silver, 
*and  the  third  of  iron.  The  captives  who  dug  his 
grave  were  strangled,  so  that  the  place  of  his  burial 
might  not  be  known. 

,  In  person,  Attila  was  marked  with  the  Tartar 
characteristics,  from  which  he,  as  well  as  the  people 
of  his  kingdom,  weiie  descended.  He  was  low  in 
stature,  broad-chested,  ai|d  of  a  powerful  frame.  He 
was  dark  complexioned,^Vvdth  a  few  straggling  hairs 
for  beard,  a  fiat  nose,  large  Qead,  and  small  eyes.  No 
one  could  look  upon  him,  and  not  feel  that  he  had 
come  into  the  world  to  disturb  it.  The  ni^nber  of 
persons  slain  in  his  battles  amounted  to  hundreds  of 
thousands,  yet  to  so  little  purpose,  that  his  empire 
was  immediately  dismembered  upon  his  death. 


NERO. 


Claudius  CjEsar  Nero  was  son  of  Caius  Domitius* 
^nobarbus  and  Agrippina,  the  daughter  of  Ger- 
manicus  and  wife  of  the  Emperor  Claudius,  after  the 
death  of  her  first  ij^uisband*.  # ,  He/ was  adopted  by  the 
Emperor  Claudius,  A.  D.  50,  and  when  he  was  mur- 
dered by  his  wife,  four  years  after,  Nero  succeeded 
him  on  the  throne.  He  possessed  excellent  talents, 
and  was  carefully  educated  by  Seneca  and  Burrhus. 
The  beginning  of  his  reign  was  marked  by  acts  of  the' 


NERO.  69 

greatest  kindness  and  condescension,  by  affability, 
complaisance  and  popularity.  The  object  of  his  ad- 
ministration seemed  to  be  the  good  of  his  people ; 
and  when  he  was  desired  to'  sign  his  name  for  the 
execution  of  a  malefactor,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  wish  to 
heaven  I  could  not  write ! "  He  appeared  to  be  an 
enemy  to  flattery,  and  when  the  senate  had  liberally 
commended  the  wisdom  of  his  government,  Nero 
desired  them  to  keep  their  praises  till  he  deserved 
them. 

But  these  promising  virtues  were  soon  discovered 
to  be  artificial,  and  Nero  displayed  the  real  propen- 
sities of  his  nature.  He  delivered  himself  from  the 
sway  of  his  mother,  and  at  last  ordered  her  to  be 
assassinated.  This  unnatural  act  of  barbarity  shock- 
ed some  of  the  Romans ;  but  Nero  had  his  devoted 
adherents  ;  and  when  he  declared  that  he  had  taken 
away  his  mother's  life  to  save  himself  from  ruin,  the 
senate  applauded  his  measures,  and  the  people  sig- 
nified their  approbation.  Even  Burrhus  and  Seneca, 
Nero's  advisers,  either  counselled  or  justified  his  con- 
duct. Many  of  his  courtiers  shared  the  unhappy 
fate  of  Agrippina,  and  Nero  sacrificed  to  his  fury  or 
caprice  all  such  as  obstructed  his  pleasures,  or  stood 
in  the  way  of  his  inclinations. 

In  the  night  he  generally  sallied  out  from  his 
palace,  to  visit  the  meanest  taverns  and  the  scenes  of 
debauchery  in  which  Rome  abounded.  In  his  noc- 
turnal riots  he  was  fond  of  insulting  the  people  in 
the  streets,  and  on  one  occasion,  an  attempt  to  offer 
violence  to  the  wife  of  a  Roman  senator  nearly  cost 
him  his  life.     lie  also  turned^ector,  and  publicly  ap- 


70  NERO. 

peared  on  the  Roman  stage,  in  the  meanest  characters. 
He  had  an  ahsurd  passion  to  excel  in  music,  and  to 
conquer  the  disadvantages  of  a  hoarse,  rough  voice, 
he  moderated  his  meals,  and  often  passed  the  day 
without  eating. 

The  celebrity  of  the  Olympic  games  having  at- 
tracted his  notice,  he  passed  into  Greece,  and  presented 
himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  public  honors.  He 
was  defeated  in  wrestling,  but  the  flattery  of  the 
spectators  adjudged  him  the  victory,  and  Nero  re- 
turned to  Rome  with  all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  an 
eastern  conqueror,  drawn  in  the  chariot  of  Augustus, 
and  attended  by  a  band  of  musicians,  actors,  and  stage 
dancers  from  every  part  of  the  empire. 

These  private  and  public  amusements  of  the  em- 
peror were  comparatively  innocent ;  his  character  was 
injured,  but  not  the  lives  of  the  people.  His  con- 
duct, however,  soon  became  more  censurable ;  he  was 
guilty  of  various  acts  which  cannot  be  even  named 
with  decency.  The  cruelty  of  his  nature  was  dis- 
played in  the  sacrifice  of  his  wives  Octavia  and  Pop- 
psea;  and  the  celebrated  writers,  Seneca,  Lucan,  Pe- 
tronius,  &c.,  became  the  victims  of  his  wantonness. 
The  Christians  did  not  escape  his  barbarity.  He  had 
heard  of  the  burning  of  Troy,  and  as  he  wished  to 
renew  that  dismal  scene,  he  caused  Rome  to  be  set  on 
fire  in  diflTerent  places.  The  conflagration  became 
soon  universal,  and  during  nine  successive  days  the 
fire  was  unextinguished.  All  was  desolation ;  nothing 
was  heard  but  the  lamentations  of  mothers  whose 
children  had  perished  in  the  flames,  the  groans  of 
the  dying,  and  the  continual  fall  of  palaces  and  build- 
ings. 


NERO.  ^-  71 

Nero  was  the  only  one  who  enjoyed  the  general 
consternation.  He  placed  himself  on  a  high  tower, 
and  he  sang  on  his  lyre  the  destruction  of  Troy ;  a 
dreadful  scene  which  his  barbarity  had  realized  before 
his  eyes.  He  attempted  to  avert  the  public  odium 
from  his  head,  by  a  feigned,  commiseration  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  his  subjects,  and  by  charging  the  fire  upon 
the  Christians.  He  caused  great  numbers  of  them 
to  be  seized  and  put  to  death.  Some  were  covered 
with  the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  and  killed  by  dogs  set 
upon  them ;  others  were  crucified ;  others  were 
smeared  with  pitch  and  burned,  at  night,  in  the  im- 
perial gardens,  for  the  amusement  of  the  people  ! 

Nero  began  to  repair  the  streets  and  the  public 
buildings  at  his  own  expense.  He  built  himself  a 
celebrated  palace,  which  he  called  his  golden  house. 
It  was  profusely  adorned  with  gold  and  precious 
stones,  and  with  whatever  was  rare  and  exquisite. 
It  contained  spacious  fields,  artificial  lakes,  woods,  gar- 
dens, orchards,  and  every  device  that  could  exhibit 
beauty  and  grandeur.  The  entrance  to  this  edifice 
would  admit  a  colossal  image  of  the  emperor,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  feet  high ;  the  galleries  were  each  a 
mile  long,  and  the  whole  was  covered  with  gold.  The 
roofs  of  the  dining  halls  represented  the  firmament,  in 
motion  as  well  as  in  figure,  and  continually  turned 
round,  night  and  day,  showering  all  sorts  of  perfumes 
and  sweet  waters.  When  this  grand  edifice,  which, 
according  to  Pliny,  extended  all  round  the  city,  was 
finished,  Nero  said  that  he  could  now  lodge  like  a 
man ! 

His  profusion  was  not  less  remarkable  in  all  his 


72  *  NEKO. 

A 
other  actions.  When  he  went  fishing,  his  nets  were 
made  with  gold  and  silk.  He  never  appeared  twice 
in  the  same  garment,  and  when  he  undertook  a  voy- 
age, there  were  thousands  of  servants  to  take  care  of 
his  wardrobe.  His  continued  debauchery,  cruelty,  and 
extravagance  at  last  roused  the  resentment  of  the  peo- 
ple. Many  conspiracies  were  formed  against  him, 
but  they  were  generally  discovered,  and  such  as  were 
accessory,  suffered  the  greatest  punishments.  One 
of  the  most  dangerous  plots  against  Nero's  life  was 
that  of  Piso,  from  which  he  was  delivered  by  the 
confession  of  a  slave.  The  conspiracy  of  Galba 
proved  more  successful ;  for  the  conspirator,  when 
he  was  informed  that  his  design  was  known  to  Nero, 
declared  himself  emperor.  The  unpopularity  of  Nero 
favored  his  cause  ;  he  was  acknowledged  by  the  whole 
Roman  empire,  and  the  senate  condemned  the  tyrant, 
that  sat  on  the  throne,  to  be  dragged,  naked,  through 
the  streets  of  Rome,  whipped  to  death,  and  afterwards 
to  be  thrown  from  the  Tarpeian  rock,  like  the  meanest 
malefactor.  This,  however,  was  not  done,  for  Nero, 
by  a  voluntary  death,  prevented  the  execution  of  the 
sentence.  He  killed  himself,  A.  D.  6S,  in  the  thirty- 
second  year  of  his  age,  after  a  reign  of  thirteen  years 
and  eight  months. 

Rome  was  filled  with  acclamations  at  the  intelli- 
gence of  this  event,  and  the  citizens,  more  strongly  to 
indicate  their  joy,  wore  caps  such  as  were  generally 
used  by  slaves  who  had  received  their  freedom.  Their 
vengeance  was  not  only  exercised  against  the  statues 
of  the  deceased  tyrant,  but  his  friends  were  the  objects 
of  the  public  resentment,  and  many  were  crushed  to 


NERO. 


A*  tee  sen- 
e  was  afraid 


pieces  in  such  a  violent  manner, 
ators,  amid  the  universal  joy,  said  that 
they  should  soon  have  cause  to  wish  for  Nero.  The 
tyrant,  as  he  expired,  begged  that  his  head  might  not 
be  cut  off  from  his  body  and  exposed  to  the  insolence 
of  an  enraged  populace,  but  that  the  whole  might  be 
burned  on  a  funeral  pile.  His  request  was  granted, 
and  his  obsequies  were  performed  with  the  usual 
ceremonies. 

Though  his  death  seemed  to  be  the  source  of  uni- 
versal gladness,  yet  many  of  his  favorites  lamented 
his  fall,  and  were  grieved  to  see  that  their  pleasures 
and  amusements  were  terminated  by  the  death  of  the 
patron  of  debauchery  and  extravagance.  Even  the 
king  of  Parthia  sent  ambassadors  to  Rome  to  condole 
with  the  Romans,  and  to  beg  that  they  would  honor 
and  revere  the  memory  of  Nero.  His  statues  were 
also  crowned  with  garlands  of  flowers,  and  many 
believed  that  he  was  not  dead,  but  that  he  would  soon 
make  his  appearance  and  take  a  due  vengeance  upon 
his  enemies.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  observe,  in  fin- 
ishing the  character  of  this  tyrannical  emperor  and 
detestable  man,  that  the  name  of  Nero  is,  even  now, 
the  common  designation  of  a  barbarous  and  unfeeling 
oppressor. 


LUCIUS  ANNiEUS   SENECA. 


■  t 

This  individual,  whose  "  Morals  "  are  so  familiar  to 
us,  was  born  at  Corduba,  in  Spain,  six  years  before 
Christ.  His  father  was  a  rhetorician  of  some  celeb- 
rity, and  a  portion  of  his  works  has  come  down  to 
our  time.  While  Lucius  was  yet  a  child,  he  removed 
from  Corduba  to  Rome,  which  henceforward  became 
his  residence.  The  son,  possessing  very  promising 
talents,  received  the  greatest  care  and  attention  in 
respect  to  his  education.  He  was  taught  eloquence 
by  his  father,  and  took  lessons  in  philosophy  from  the 
most  celebrated  masters.  According  to  the  custom 
of  those  who  sought  to  excel  in  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge, he  travelled  in  Greece  and  Egypt,  after  com- 
pleting his  studies,  and  his  work  entitled  Qucestiones 
Naturales  showed  that  he  made  good  use  of  his  op- 
portunities during  this  excursion ;  it  also  proves  that 
he  was  master  of  the  science  of  his  time. 

Young  Seneca  was  fascinated  with  the  philosophi- 
cal speculations  of  the  Stoics,^  to  which  sect  he  became 


*  The  Stoics  were  the  followers  of  Zeno,  a  Greek  philosopher 
of  Citium.  They  professed  to  prefer  virtue  to  everything 
else,  and  to  regard  vice  as  the  greatest  of  evils.    They  required 


SENECA.  75 

devoted.  He  even  adopted  the  austere  modes  of  life 
they  inculcated,  and  refused  to  eat  the  flesh  of  ani- 
mals ;  but  when  the  emperor,  Tiberius,"^  threatened 
to  punish  some  Jews  and  Egyptians  for  abstaining 
from  certain  meats,  at  the  suggestion  of  his  father,  he 
departed  from  this  singularity.  In  compliance  with 
his  father's  advice,  who  urged  upon  him  the  necessity 
of  devoting  himself  to  some  kind  of  business,  he 
adopted  the  profession  of  an  advocate. 

As  a  pleader,  Seneca  appeared  to  great  advantage, 
and  consequently  excited  the  envy  of  Caligula,  who 
aspired  to  the  reputation  of  an  orator.     Apprehensive 

an  absolute  command  over  the  passions,  and  maintained  the 
ability  of  man  to  attain  perfection  and  felicity  in  this  life.  They 
encouraged  suicide,  and  held  that  the  doctrine  of  rewards  and 
punishments  was  unnecessary  to  enforce  virtue  upon  mankind. 

^  Tiberius  succeeded  Augustus  Caesar,  as  emperor ;  at  his 
succession  he  gave  promise  of  a  happy  reign,  but  he  soon  dis- 
graced himself  by  debauchery,  cruelty,  and  the  most  flagitious 
excesses.  It  was  wittily  said  of  him  by  Seneca  that  he  was 
never  intoxicated  but  once,  for  when  he  became  drunk,  his 
whole  life  was  a  continued  state  of  inebriety.  He  died  A.  D. 
37,  after  a  reign  of  twenty-two  years,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Caligula. 

For  a  brief  period,  Rome  now  enjoyed  prosperity  and  peace  ; 
but  the  young  emperor  soon  became  proud,  cruel  and  corrupt. 
He  caused  a  temple  to  be  erected  to  himself,  and  had  his  own 
image  set  in  the  place  of  .Tupiter  and  the  other  deities.  He 
often  amused  himself  by  putting  innocent  people  to  death ;  he 
attempted  to  famish  Rome,  and  even  wished  that  the  Romans 
had  one  head,  that  he  might  strike  it  off  at  a  blow !  At  last, 
weary  of  his  cruelties,  several  persons  formed  a  conspiracy 
and  murdered  him,  A.  D.  41.  History  does  not  furnish  another 
instance  of  so  great  a  monster  as  Caligula. 


k 


76  SENECA. 

of  the  consequences,  he  changed  his  views,  and  be- 
came a  candidate  for  the  honors  and  offices  of  the 
state.  He  was  made  praetor,  under  Claudius,  but, 
being  charged  with  a  shameful  intrigue  with  a  lady 
of  rank,  he  was  banished  to  Corsica.  Though  his 
guilt  was  not  satisfactorily  proved,  he  continued  for 
five  years  in  exile;  during  which  period  he  wrote  a 
treatise  on  Consolation.  In  this,  he  seems  to  draw 
contentment  and  peace  from  philosophical  views,  and 
one  would  fancy  that  he  was  elevated  by  these,  above 
the  evils  of  his  condition.  Yet,  unhappily  for  his 
reputation  in  respect  to  consistency  and  sincerity,  his- 
tory tells  us  that,  at  this  period,  he  was  suing  to  the 
emperor  in  the  most  abject  terms  for  restitution. 
'  Claudius  "^^  at  length  married  Agrippina,  and  Sen- 
eca, being  recalled,  was  made  preceptor  of  Nero,  the 
son  of  Agrippina,  who  was  destined  to  become  em- 
peror. From  the  favorable  traits  of  character  dis- 
played by  the  pupil  of  the  philosopher  in  the  early 
part  of  his  career,  it  might  seem  that  Seneca's  in- 
structions had  exerted  a  good  influence  over  him. 
Bat  an  impartial  scrutiny  of  the  events  of  that  period 
has  led  to  the  probable  conclusion  that  he  was  a  pan- 
der to  the  worst  of  Nero's  vices.  It  is  certain  that 
he  acquired  immense  wealth  in  a  short  period  of  time, 
and  it  appears  that  this  was  obtained  through  the 
munificence  of  his  royal  patron.  The  latter  was 
avaricious  and  mercenary,  and  was  likely  to  part  with 
his  money  only  for  such  things  as  ministered  to  his 
voluptuous  passions. 

*  Claudius  succeeded  Caligula  in  41,  and,  after  a  reign  of 
thirteen  years,  he  was  poisoned  by  his  wife,  Agrippina. 


SENECA.  77 

The  possessions  of  Seneca  were  enormous.  He 
had  several  gardens  and  villas  in  the  country,  and  a 
magnificent  palace  in  Rome.  This  was  sumptuously 
furnished,  and  contained  five  hundred  tables  of  cedar, 
with  feet  of  ivory,  and  all  of  exquisite  workmanship. 
His  ready  cash  amounted  to  about  twelve  millions  of 
dollars.  It  appears  certain  that  such  riches  could  not 
have  been  acquired  by  means  of  Seneca's  precepts ; 
and  the  inference  of  many  of  his  contemporaries,  as 
well  as  of  posterity,  has  been,  that  the  virtue  which 
appears  so  lovely  in  his  pages  was  but  the  decorous 
veil  of  avarice,  vice,  and  crime. 

For  a  period  after  his  accession  to  the  throne, 
Nero's  conduct  was  deserving  of  praise ;  but  he  soon 
threw  off  all  regard  even  to  decency,  and  launched 
forth  upon  that  career  which  has  made  his  name  a 
by-word  and  reproach  for  all  after  time.  Seneca, 
being  accused  of  having  amassed  immense  wealth  by 
improper  means,  became  greatly  alarmed ;  for  he 
knew  the  tyrant  so  well  as  to  foresee  that,  under  color 
of  this  charge,  he  was  very  likely  to  sacrifice  him,  in 
order  to  obtain  his  property.  Pretending,  therefore, 
to  be  indifferent  to  riches,  he  begged  the  emperor  to 
accept  of  his  entire  fortune,  and  permit  him  to  spend 
the  remainder  of  his  days  in  the  quiet  pursuits  of  phi- 
losophy. The  emperor,  with  deep  dissimulation,  re- 
fused this  offer — no  doubt  intending  in  some  other 
way  to  compass  the  ruin  of  Seneca.    I^ 

Aware  of  his  danger,  the  philosopher  now  kept 
himself  at  home  for  a  long  period,  as  if  laboring  under 
disease.  Some  time  after,  a  conspiracy  for  the  mur- 
der of  Nero,  headed  by  Piso,  was  detected.     Several 


78  SENECA. 

of  the  most  noble  of  the  Roman  senators  were  con- 
cerned, and  Seneca's  name  was  mentioned  as  an 
accessory.  Nero,  doubtless  glad  of  an  opportunity  to 
sacrifice  him,  now  sent  a  command  that  he  should 
destroy  himself. 

It  has  been  a  question  whether  Seneca. was  really 
concerned  in  the  conspiracy  of  Piso.  The  proof 
brought  against  him  was  not  indeed  conclusive,  but 
it  is  obvious  that  his  position  might  lead  him  to  desire 
the  death  of  the  tyrant,  as  the  only  means  of  safety 
to  himself;  and  Seneca's  character,  unfortunately,  is 
not  such  as  to  shield  his  memory  against  strong  sus- 
picion of  participation  in  the  alleged  crime. 

Seneca  was  at  table,  with  his  wife,  Paulina,  and 
two  of  his  friends,  when  the  messenger  of  Nero  ar- 
rived. He  heard  the  words  which  commanded  him 
to  take  his  own  life,  with  philosophic  firmness,  and 
even  with  apparent  joy.  He  observed  that  such  a 
mandate  might  long  have  been  expected  from  a  man 
who  had  murdered  his  own  mother  and  assassinated 
his  best  friends.  He  wished  to  dispose  of  his  posses- 
sions as  he  pleased,  but  his  request  was  refused. 
When  he  heard  this,  he  turned  to  those  around  who 
were  weeping  at  his  fate,  and  told  them,  that,  since  he 
could  not  leave  them  what  he  believed  his  own,  he 
would  leave  them  at  least  his  own  life  for  an  example 
— an  innocent  conduct,  which  they  might  imitate,  and 
by  which  the^might  acquire  immortal  fame. 

Against  their  tears  and  wailings,  he  exclaimed  with 
firmness,  and  asked  them  whether  they  had  not 
learned  better  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  fortune  and 
the  violence  of  tyranny.    As  for  his  wife,  he  attempted 

I 


SENECA.  79 

to  calm  her  emotions,  and  when  she  seemed  resolved 
to  die  with  him,  he  said  he  was  glad  to  have  his 
example  followed  with  so  much  constancy.  Their 
veins  were  opened  at  the  same  moment ;  but  Nero, 
who  was  partial  to  Paulina,  ordered  the  blood  to  be 
stopped,  and  her  life  was  thus  preserved. 

Seneca's  veins  bled  but  slowly,  and  the  conversa- 
tion of  his  dying  moments  was  collected  by  his  friends, 
and  preserved  among  his  works.  To  hasten  his 
death,  he  drank  a  dose  of  poison,  but  it  had  no  effect, 
and  therefore  he  ordered  himself  to  be  carried  to  a 
hot  bath,  to  accelerate  the  operation  of  the  draught, 
and  to  make  the  blood  flow  more  freely.  This  was 
attended  with  no  better  success,  and,  as  the  soldiers 
were  clamorous,  he  was  carried  into  a  stove,  and  suf- 
focated by  the  steam.  Thus  he  died,  in  the  66th  year 
of  the  Christian  era.  / 

The  death  of  Seneca  has  been  loudly  applauded,  and 
has  sometimes  been  pronounced  sublime ;  but  this  is 
owing  to  an  ignorance  of  the  time,  and  inattention  to 
Seneca's  own  doctrines.  With  the  Stoics,  death  was 
nothing ;  "  It  is  not  an  evil,  but  the  absence  of  all 
evil."  This  was  their  creed.  With  such  principles, 
there  could  be  no  fear  of  death,  and  consequently,  we 
find  that  courage  to  die — if  it  be  courage  to  encounter 
that  which  is  not  an  evil — was  common  in  Seneca's 
time.  "  At  that  period  of  languor  and  luxury,"  says 
M.  Nisard,  "  of  monstrous  effeminacies,  of  appetites 
for  which  the  world  could  hardly  suffice — of  perfumed 
baths,  of  easy  and  disorderly  intrigues,  there  were 
daily  men  of  all  ranks,  of  all  fortunes,  of  all  ages, 


80  SENECA. 

who  released  themselves  from  their  evils  by  death. 
How  was  it  possible  for  them  to  avoid  suicide,  with 
no  other  consolation  than  the  philosophy  of  Seneca, 
and  his  theories  on  the  delights  of  poverty?  ' 

"  Marcellinus"^  is  attacked  with  a  painful  but  cura- 
ble malady.  He  is  young,  rich,  has  slaves,  friends, 
everything  to  make  life  pleasant :  no  matter,  he  con- 
ceives the  fancy  of  the  pleasure  of  dying.  He  assem- 
bles his  friends  ;  he  consults  them  as  if  he  were  going- 
to  marry.  He  discusses  with  them  his  project  of  sui- 
cide, and  puts  it  to  the  vote.  Some  advise  him  to  do 
as  he  pleases ;  but  a  Stoic,  a  friend  of  Seneca's,  then 
present,  exhorts  him  bravely  to  die.  His  principal 
reason  is  that  he  is  ennuye.  No  one  contradicts  the 
Stoic.  Marcellinus  thanks  his  friends,  and  distributes 
money  to  his  slaves.  He  abstains  for  three  days 
from  all  food,  and  is  then  carried  into  a  warm  bath, 
where  he  quickly  expires,  having  muttered  some 
words  on  the  pleasure  he  felt  in  dying. 

"  This  pleasure  was  so  little  of  an  affectation,  so 
much  had  it  become  the  fashion,  that  some  of  the 
austere  Stoics  thought  themselves  bound  to  place  cer- 
tain restrictions  upon  it.  They  committed  suicide 
from  ennuij  from  idleness,  from  want  of  patience  to 
cure  themselves  of  their  ills, — for  distraction — much 
in  the  same  way  that  they  killed  each  other  in  duels, 
under  Cardinal  Richelieu." 

Viewed  in  this  light,  Seneca's  death  had  nothing 
in  it  of  the  sublime :  he  yielded  but  to  a  fashion ;  he 
only  practised  what  was  common.     If  he  sincerely 

*  Seneca;  Ess.  Ixxvii. 


SENECA,  81 

believed  his  professed  creed — that  death  is  the  absence 
of  all  evil — he  neither  evinced  courage  nor  dignity ; 
if  he  did  not  believe,  then  his  conduct  displayed  but 
the  skilful  acting  of  a  part,  and  untier  circumstances 
which  mark  him  with  the  deepest  hypocrisy. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  Seneca's  works  are 
full  of  wisdom,  though  they  fall  far  short  of  the  Chris- 
tian's philosophy.  In  his  treatise  upon  benefits,  for 
example,  we  have  the  following  passage  : — 

"  The  good  will  of  the  benefactor  is  the  fountain 
of  all  benefits  ;  nay,  it  is  the  benefit  itself,  or,  at  least, 
the  stamp  that  makes  it  valuable  and  current.  Some 
there  are,  I  know,  that  take  the  matter  for  the  benefit, 
and  tax  the  obligation  by  weight  and  measure.  When 
anything  is  given  them,  they  presently  cast  it  up — 
*  What  may  such  a  house  be  worth  ?  such  an  office  ? 
such  an  estate  V  as  if  that  were  the  benefit  which  is 
only  the  sign  and  mark  of  it,  for  the  obligation  rests 
in  the  mind,  not  in  the  matter ;  and  all  those  advan- 
tages which  we  see,  handle,  or  hold  in  actual  posses- 
sion, by  the  courtesy  of  another,  are  but  several  modes 
or  ways  of  explaining  and  putting  the  good  will  in 
execution.  There  needs  no  subtlety  to  prove  that 
both  benefits  and  injuries  receive  *their  value  from  the 
intention,  when  even  brutes  themselves  are  able  to 
decide  this  question.  Tread  upon  a  dog  by  chance, 
or  put  him  in  pain  upon  the  dressing  of  a  wound ; 
the  one  he  passes  by  as  an  accident,  and  the  other, 
in  his  fashion,  he  acknowledges  as  a  kindness.  But 
offer  to  strike  at  him — though  you  do  him  no  hurt  at 
all — he  flies  in  the  face  of  you,  even  for  the  mischief 
that  you  barely  meant  him." 
F 


82 


SENECA. 


This  is  all  just  and  true :  it  makes  the  heart  the 
seat  of  moral  action,  and  thus  far  coincides  with  the 
Christian's  philosophy.  But  if  there  be  nothing  after 
death,  what  sancfion  has  virtue  ?  It  may  be  more 
beautiful  than  vice,  and  consequently  preferable,  just 
as  a  sweet  perfume  is  more  desirable  than  an  ^^ns- 
ive  odor.  It  is  good  taste,  therefore,  to  be  virtu- 
ous. Still,  each  individual  may  choose  for  himself, 
and  without  future  responsibility,  for  all  alike  must 
share  the  oblivion  of  the  tomb.  The  insufficiency  of 
this  philosophy  to  ensure  virtue,  is  attested  by  the  life 
of  Seneca,  as  well  as  that  of  most  of  his  sect.  It  re- 
sulted in  the  grossest  hypocrisy ;  an  ostentation  of  J 
virtue,  covering  up  the  practice  of  vice.  -t 


• 


VIRGIL. 


Mantua,  the  capital  of  New  Etruria,  itself  built 
three  centuries  before  Rome,  had  the  honor  of  giving 
birth  to  Publius  Virgilius  Maro.  This  event  hap- 
pened on  or  near  the  fifteenth  of  October,  seventy 
years  B.  C,  or  during  the  first  consulship  of  Pompey 
the  Great  and  Licinius  Crassus.  Who  his  father 
was,  and  even  to  what  country  he  belonged,  has  been 
the  subject  of  much  dispute.  Some  assert  that  he 
was  a  potter  of  Andes ;  but  the  most  probable  account 
is,  that  he  was  either  a  wandering  astrologer,  who 
practised  physic,  or  a  servant  to  one  of  this  leauned 
fraternity.  It  is  observed  by  Juvenal,  that  medicus, 
magus  usually  went  together,  and  that  this  course  of 
life  was  principally  followed  by  the  Greeks  and  Sy- 
rians ;  to  one  of  these  nations,  therefore,  it  is  presum- 
ed, Virgil  owes  his  birth.  His  mother,  Maia,  was  of 
good  extraction,  being  nearly  related  to  Quintilius 
Varus,  of  whom  honorable  mention  is  made  in  the 
history  of  the  second  Carthaginian  war. 

It  appears  that  all  due  attention  was  paid  to  young 
Virgil's  education.  He  passed  through  his  initiatory 
exercises  at  Mantua ;  thence  he  removed  to  Cremona, 


84  VIRGIL. 

and  afterwards  to  Milan.  In  all  these  places  he  pro- 
secuted his  studies  with  the  most  diligent  application, 
associating  with  the  eminent  professors  of  every 
department  of  science,  and  devoting  whole  nights  to 
the  best  Latin  and  Greek  authors.  In  the  latter  he 
was  greatly  assisted  by  his  proximity  to  Marseilles, 
the  only  Greek  colony  that  maintained  its  refinement 
and  purity  of  language,  amidst  the  overwhelming  in- 
fluence of  all  the  barbarous  nations  that  surrounded 
it.  At  first,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  Epicurean 
philosophy,  but  receiving  no  satisfactory  reason  for 
its  tenets  from  his  master,  the  celebrated  Syro,  he 
passed  over  to  the  academic  school,  where  physics 
and  mathematics  became  his  favorite  sciences ;  and 
these  he  continued  to  cultivate,  at  leisure  moments, 
during  his  whole  life. 

At  Milan,  he  composed  a  great  number  of  verses 
on  various  subjects,  and,  in  the  warmth  of  early  youth, 
framed  a  noble  design  of  writing  an  heroic  poem,  on 
the  Wars  of  Rome ;  but,  after  some  attempts,  he  was 
discouraged  from  proceeding,  by  the  abruptness  and 
asperity  of  the  old  Roman  names.  i 

It  is  said  that  he  here  formed  the  plan  and  col- 
lected the  materials  for  his  principal  poems.  Some 
of  these  he  had  even  begun ;  but  a  too  intense  appli- 
cation to  his  studies,  together  with  abstinence  and 
night-watching,  had  so  impaired  his  health,  that  an 
immediate  removal  to  a  more  southern  part  of  Italy 
was  deemed  absolutely  necessary  for  the  preservation 
of  his  existence.  He  fixed  upon  Naples,  and  visiting 
Rome  in  his  way,  had  the  honor,  through  the  interest 
of  his  kinsman  and  fellow-student,  Varus,  of  being 


VIRGIL.  S5 

introduced  to  the  emperor,  Octavius,  who  received 
him  with  the  greatest  marks^o^esteem,  and  earnestly- 
recommended  his  affairs  to  the  protection  of  Pollio, 
then  lieutenant  of  Cisalpine  Gaul,  where  Virgil's  pat- 
rimony lay,  and  who  generously  undertook  to  settle 
his  domestic  concerns.  Having  this  assurance,  he 
pursued  his  journey  to  Naples.  The  charming  situa- 
tion of  this  place,  the  salubrity  of  the  air,  and  the  con- 
stant society  of  the  greatest  and  most  learned  men  of 
the  time,  who  resorted  to  it,  not  only  re-established  his 
health,  but  contributed  to  the  formation  of  that  style 
and  happy  turn  of  verse  in  which  he  surpassed  all  his 
cotemporaries. 

To  rank  among  the  poets  of  their  country,  was,  at 
this  time,  the  ambition  of  the  greatest  heroes,  states- 
men, and  orators  of  Rome.  Cicero,  Octavius,  Pollio, 
Julius  Caesar,  and  even  the  stoical  Brutus,  had  been 
carried  away  by  the  impetuosity  of  the  stream ;  but 
that  genius  which  had  never  deserted  them  in  the 
forum,  or  on  the  day  of  battle,  shrunk  dismayed  at  a 
comparison  with  the  lofty  muse  of  Virgil ;  and,  al- 
though they  endeavored,  by  placing  their  poems  in 
the  celebrated  libraries,  to  hand  them  down  to  poster- 
ity, scarcely  a  single  verse  of  these  illustrious  authors 
survived  the  age  in  which  they  lived.  This  prepon- 
derence  of  fashion,  h.  vever,Avas  favorable  to  Virgil ; 
he  had  for  some  time  devoted  himself  to  the  study 
of  the  law,  and  even  pleaded  one  cause  with  indiffer- 
ent success  ;  but  yielding  now  to  the  impulse  of  the 
age  and  his  own  genius,  he  abandoned  the  profession, 
and  resumed  with  increased  ardor  the  cultivation  of 


86  VIRGIL. 

that  talent  for  which  he  afterwards  became  so  distin- 
guished. ^  * 

Captivated  at  an  early  age  by  the  pastorals  of  The- 
ocritus, Virgil  was  ambitious  of  being  the  primitive 
introducer  of  that  species  of  poetry  among  the  Ro- 
mans. His  first  performance  in  this  way,  entitled 
Alexis,  is  supposed  to  have  appeared  when  the  poet 
was  in  his  twenty-fifth  year.  Palocmon,  which  is  a 
close  imitation  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  Idyls  of  Theo- 
critus, was  probably  his  second ;  but  as  this  period  of 
the  life  of  Virgil  is  enveloped  in  a  considerable  degree 
of  obscurity, — few  writers  on  the  subject  having 
condescended  to  notice  such  particulars  as  chronolog- 
ical arrangement, — little  more  than  surmise  can  be 
offered  to  satisfy  the  researches  of  the  curious.  The 
fifth  eclogue  was  composed  in  allusion  to  the  death 
and  deification  of  Caesar,  and  is  supposed  to  have 
been  written  subsequently  to  Silenus,  his  sixth 
eclogue.  This  is  said  to  have  been  publicly  recited 
on  the  stage,  by  the  comedian  Cytheris,  and  to  have 
procured  its  author  that  celebrity  and  applause  to  which 
the  peculiar  beauty  and  sweetness  of  the  poem  so 
justly  entitled  him. 

The  fatal  battle  of  Philippi,  in  which  Augustus  and 
Antony  were  victorious,  at  once  annihilated  every 
shadow  of  liberty  in  the  commonwealth.  Those 
veteran  legions,  who  had  conquered  the  world,  fought 
no  more  for  the  dearest  rights  of  their  country.  Hav- 
ing been  once  its  protectors,  they  now  became  its 
ravagers.  As  the  amor  patria  no  longer  inspired  them, 
the  treasury  of  the  Roman  empire  proved  inadequate 
to  allay  their  boundless  thirst  for  wealth.    Augustus, 


VIRGIL.  87 

therefore,  to  silence  their  clamors,  distributed  among 
them  the  flourishing  colony  of  Cremona,  and,  to  make 
up  the  deficiency,  added  part  of  the  state  of  Mantua. 
In  vain  did  the  miserable  mothers,  with  famishing- 
infants  at  their  breasts,  fill  the  forum  with  their  num- 
bers, and  the  air  with  their  lamentations  ;  in  vain  did 
the  inhabitants  complain  of  being  driven,  like  van- 
quished enemies,  from«their  native  hom||||.  Such 
scenes  are  familiar  to  the  conquerors  in^^vil  war; 
and  those  legions,  which  had  sacrificea  their  own  and 
their  country's  liberty,  must  be  recompensed  at  the 
expense  of  justice  and  the  happiness  of  thousands. 
Virgil,  involved  in  the  common  calamity,  had  recourse 
to  his  old  patron^  Pollio  and  Mecoenas  i"^  and,  sup- 
ported by  them,  pSfeUoned  Augustus  not  only  for  the 
possession  of  his  own  property,  but  for  the  reinstate- 
ment of  his  countrymen  in  theirs  also ;  which,  after 
some  hesitation,  was  denied,  accompanied  by  a  grant 
for  the  restitution  of  his  individual  estate. 

Full  of  gratitude  for  such  favor,  Virgil  composed 


*  Mecaenas,  a  celebrated  Roman,  who  distinguished  himself 
by  his  liberal  patronage  of  learned  men  and  letters.  His  fond- 
ness for  pleasure  removed  him  from  the  reach  of  ambition, 
and  he  preferred  to  live  and  die  a  knight,  to  all  the  honors  and 
dignities  that  the  Emperor  Augustus  could  heap  upon  him. 
The  emperor  received  the  private  admonitions  of  Mecaenas  in 
the  same  friendly  way  in  which  they  were  given.  Virgil  and 
Horace  both  enjoyed  his  friendship.  He  was  fond  of  literature, 
and  from  the  patronage  which  the  heroic  and  lyric  poets  of  the 
age  received  from  him,  patrons  of  literature  have  ever  since 
been  called  by  his  name.  Virgil  dedicated  to  him  his  Georgics, 
and  Horace  his  Odes.     He  died  eight  years  B.  C. 


« 


88  .     .  VIRGIL. 

his  Tityrus,  in  which  he  has  introduced  one  shepherd 
complaining  of  the  destruction  of  his  farm,  the  anar- 
chy and  confusion  of  the  times  ;  and  another  rejoicing 
that  he  can  again  tune  his  reed  to  love  amidst  his 
flocks ;  promising  to  honor,  as  a  superior  being,  the 
restorer  of  his  happiness. 

Unfortunately  for  Virgil,  his  joy  was  not  of  long 
continuance,  for,  on  arriving^at  Mantua,  and  produc- 
ing his  N^want  to  Arrius,  a  captain  of  foot,  whom  he 
found  in  possession  of  his  house,  the  old  soldier  was 
so  enraged  at  what  he  termed  the  presumption  of  a 
poet,  that  he  wounded  him  dangerously  with  his 
sword,  and  would  have  killed  him  had  he  not  escaped 
by  swimming  hastily  over  the  Mincius.  Virgil  was, 
therefore,  compelled  to  return  half 'the  length  of  Italy, 
with  a  body  reduced  by  sickness,  and  a  mind  depress- 
ed by  disappointment,  again  to  petition  Augustus  for 
the  restoration  of  his  estate.  During  this  journey, 
which,  from  the  nature  of  his  wound,  Avas  extremely 
slow,  he  is  supposed  to  have  written  his  Moeris,  or 
ninth  eclogue ;  and  this  conjecture  is  rendered  more 
probable  by  the  want  of  connexion,  perceivable  through 
the  whole  composition — displaying,  evidently,  the  dis- 
order at  that  time  predominant  in  the  poet's  mind. 
However,  on  his  arrival  at  Rome,  he  had  the  satisfac- 
tion to  find  that  effectual  orders  had  been  given  in 
his  behalf,  and  the  farm  was  resigned  into  the  hands 
of  his  procurator  or  bailiff,  to  whom  the  above  pastoral 
is  addressed. 

The  Sibylline  Oracles,  having  received  information 
from  the  Jews  that  a  child  was  to  be  born,  who  should 
be  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  to  whom  nations 


VIRGIL.  89 

and  empires  should  bow  with  submission,  pretended 
to  foretell  that  this  event  would  occur  in  the  year  of 
Rome,  714,  after  the  peace  concluded  between  Au- 
gustus and  Antony.  Virgil,  viewing  this  prophecy 
with  the  vivid  imagination  of  a  poet,  and  willing  to 
flatter  the  ambition  of  his  patron,  composed  his  cele- 
brated eclogue,  entitled  Pollio,  in  which  he  supposes 
the  child,  who  was  thus  to  unite  mankind  and  restore 
the  golden  age,  to  be  the  offspring  of  Octavia,  wife  of 
Antony,  and  half  sister  to  Augustus.  In  this  produc- 
tion, the  consul  Pollio,  Octavia,  and  even  the  unborn 
infant,  are  flattered  with  his  usual  delicacy;  and  the 
rival  triumviri,  though  a  short  time  before  in  open 
hostility,  have  the  honor  of  equally  sharing  the  poet's 
applause. 

While  Pollio,  who  seems  to  have  been  the  most 
accomplished  man  of  his  age,  and  is  celebrated  as  a 
poet,  soldier,  orator  and  historian,  was  engaged  in  an 
expedition  against  the  Parthini,  whom  he  subdued, 
Virgil  addressed  to  him  his  Pharmaceutria,  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  all  his  eclogues,  and  in  imita- 
tion of  a  poem  of  the  same  name,  by  his  favorite 
author,  Theocritus.  This  production  is  the  more 
valuable,  as  it  has  handed  down  to  posterity  some 
of  the  superstitious  rites  of  the  Romans  and  the 
heathen  notions  of  enchantment.  Virgil  himself 
seems  to  have  been  conscious  of  the  beauty  of  his 
subject,  and  the  dignity  of  the  person  whom  he  was 
addressing ;  and,  accordingly,  has  given  us,  by  the 
fertility  of  his  genius  and  the  brilliancy  of  his  imag- 
ination, some  of  the  most  sublime  images  that  are  to 
be  found  in  any  of  the  writings  of  antiquity. 


Sf 


90  VIRGIL. 

By  the  advice,  and  indeed  at  the  earnest  entreaty  of 
Augustus,  Virgil,  in  his  thirty-fourth  year,  retired  to 
Naples,  and  formed  the  plan  of  his  Georgics :  a  de- 
sign as  new  in  Latin  verse,  as  pastorals,  before  his, 
were  in  Italy.  These  he  undertook  for  the  interest, 
and  to  promote  the  welfare,  of  his  country.  As  the 
continual  civil  wars  had  entirely  depopulated  and  laid 
wajste  the  land  usually  appropriated  for  cultivation, 
the  peasants  had  turned  soldiers,  and  their  farms 
became  scenes  of  desolation.  Famine  and  insurrection 
were  the  inevitable  consequences  that  followed  such 
overwhelming  calamities.  Augustus,  therefore,  re- 
solved to  revive  the  decayed  spirit  of  husbandry,  and 
began  by  employing  Virgil  to  recommend  it  with  all 
the  insinuating  charms  of  poetry.  This  work  took 
up  seven  of  the  most  vigorous  years  of  his  life,  and 
fully  answered  the  expectations  of  his  patron.  ^ 

Augustus,  having  conquered  his  rival,  Antony,  gave 
the  last  wound  to  expiring  liberty,  by  usurping  the 
exclusive  government  of  the  Roman  empire.  To 
reconcile  a  nation,  naturally  jealous  of  its  freedom,  to 
this,  seems  to  have  been  the  grand  object  of  Virgil, 
in  his  JEneid.  This  poem  was  begun  in  the  forty-fifth 
year  of  the  author's  life,  and  not  only  displays  admi- 
rable poetical  genius,  but  great  political  address.  Not 
an  incident  that  could  in  any  way  tend  to  flatter  the 
Roman  people  into  a  submission  to  the  existing  gov- 
ernment, has  escaped  his  penetrating  judgment.  He 
traces  their  origin  to  the  Trojans,  and  makes  Augus- 
tus a  lineal  descendant  of  jEneas.  At  the  command 
of  the  gods  they  obey  him,  and  in  return  are  prom- 
ised the  empire  of  the  world. 


VIRGIL.  .  91 

So  anxious  was  Augustus  as  to  the  result  of  this 
poem,  that  he  insisted  upon  having  part  of  it  read 
before  the  whole  was  completed.  Gratitude,  after 
threats  and  entreaties  had  been  used  in  vain,  at  length 
induced  its  author  to  comply ;  and,  knowing  that  Oc- 
tavia,  who  had  just  lost  her  son,  Marcellus,  would  be 
present,  Virgil  fixed  upon  the  sixth  book,  perhaps  the 
finest  part  of  the  whole  -^neid.  His  illustrious  audi- 
tors listened  with  all  the  attention  which  such  inter- 
esting narrative  and  eloquent  recital  demanded,  till 
he  came  to  that  beautiful  lamentation  for  the  death  of 
young  Marcellus,  and  where,  after  exhausting  pane- 
gyric, he  has  artfully  suppressed  the  name  of  its  ob- 
ject, till  the  concluding  verse  : 

^  "  Tu  Marcellus  eris." 

At  these  words,  Octavia,  overcome  with  surprise  and 
sorrow,  fainted  away ;  but,  on  recovering,  was  so 
highly  gratified  at  having  her  son  thus  immortalized, 
that  she  presented  the  poet  with  ten  sesterces  for  each 
line  ;  amounting,  in  the  whole,  to  about  ten  thousand 
dollars. 

Having  at  length  brought  his  -^neid  to  a  conclu- 
sion, Virgil  proposed  travelling  into  Greece,  and  de- 
voting three  years  to  the  correction  and  improvement 
of  his  favorite  work.  Having  arrived  at  Athens,  he 
met  with  Augustus,  who  was  returning  from  a  victo- 
rious expedition  to  the  East,  and  who  requested  the 
company  of  the  poet  back  to  Italy.  The  latter  deemed 
it  his  duty  to  comply ;  but,  being  desirous  to  see  as 
many  of  the  Grecian  antiquities  as  the  time  would 
allow,  went  for  that  purpose  to  Megara.     Here  he 


92  VIRGIL. 

was  seized  with  a  dangerous  illness,  which,  from  neg- 
lect, and  the  agitation  of  the  vessel  in  returning  to 
Italy,  proved  mortal,  at  Brundusium.  Thus  the  great 
poet  died  on  the  twenty-second  of  September,  nineteen 
years  B.  C,  and  .at  a  period  when  he  had  nearly  com- 
pleted his  fifty-second  year.  He  expired  with  the 
greatest  tranquillity ;  and  his  remains,  being  carried 
to  Naples,  were  interred  in  a  monument,  erected  at  a 
small  distance  from  the  city ;  where  it  is  still  shown, 
with  the  following  inscription,  said  to  have  been  dic- 
tated by  him  on  his  death-bed : 

Mantua  me  genuit ;  Calabn  rapuere,  tenet  nunc 
Parthenope ;  cecini  pascua,  rura,  duces. 

In  his  will  he  had  ordered  that  the  JEneld  should 
be  burnt,  not  having  finished  it  to  his  mind ;  but  Au- 
gustus wisely  forbade  the  destruction  of  a  performance 
which  will  perpetuate  his  name,  as  one  of  the  greatest 
of  poets.  It  was,  therefore,  delivered  to  Varius  and 
Tucca,  Virgil's  intimate  friends,  with  the  strictest 
charge  to  make  no  additions,  but  merely  to  publish  it 
correctly,  in  the  state  it  then  was. 

In  person,  Virgil  was  tall,  and  wide-shouldered,  of 
a  dark  swarthy  complexion,  which  probably  proceeded 
from  the  southern  extraction  of  his  father ;  his  con- 
stitution was  delicate,  and  the  most  trifling  fatigue, 
either  from  exercise  or  study,  produced  violent  head- 
ache and  spitting  of  blood.  In  temper  he  was  mel- 
ancholy and  thoughtful,  loving  retirement  and  con- 
templation. Though  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses  of 
his  age,  and  the  admiration  of  the  Romans,  he  always 
preserved  a  singular  modesty,  and  lived  chastely  when 


P  VIRGIL.  ^  93 

the  manners  of  the  people  were  extremely  corrupt. 
His  character  was  so  benevolent  and  inoffensive,  that 
most  of  his  cotemporary  poets,  though  they  envied 
each  other,  agreed  in  loving  and  esteeming  him.  He 
was  bashful  to  a  degree  of  timidity ;  his  aspect  and 
behavior  was  rustic  and  ungraceful ;  yet  he  was  so 
honored  by  his  countrymen,  that  once,  coming  into  the 
theatre,  the  whole  audience  rose  out  of  respect  to  him. 
His  fortune  was  large,  supposed  to  be  about  seventy 
thousand  pounds  sterling,  besides  which  he  possessed 
a  noble  mansion,  and  well-furnished  library  on  the 
Esquiline  Mount,  at  Rome,  and  an  elegant  villa  in 
Sicily.  Both  these  last,  he  left  to  Mecaenas,  at  his 
death,  together  with  a  considerable  proportion  of  his 
personal  property ;  the  remainder  he  divided  between 
his  relations  and  Augustus, — the  latter  having  intro- 
duced a  politic  fashion  of  being  in  everybody's  will, 
which  alone  produced  a  sufficient  revenue  for  a 
prince. 

The  works  of  Virgil  are  not  only  valuable  for  their 
poetic  beauties,  but  for  their  historical  allusions  and 
illustrations.  We  here  find  a  more  perfect  and  satis- 
factory account  of  the  religious  customs  and  cere- 
monies of  the  Romans,  than  in  any  other  of  the 
Latin  poets,  Ovid  excepted.  Everything  he  men- 
tions is  founded  upon  historical  truth.  He  was 
uncommonly  severe  in  revising  his  poetry — and  often 
compared  himself  to  a  bear  that  licks  her  cubs  into 
shape. 

In  his  intercourse  with  society,  Virgil  was  remark- 
able ;  his  friends  enjoyed  his  unbounded  confidence, 
and  his    library  and  possessions  in  Rome  were  so 


94 


VIRGIL. 


liberally  offered  for  the  use  of  those. who  needed 
them,  as  to  seem  to  belong  to  the  public.  "  Amiable 
and  exemplary,  however,  as  he**was,  he  had  bitter 
enemies  ;  but  their  revilings  only  served  to  add  lustre 
to  his  name  and  fame. 


f 


CICERO. 


Marcus  Tullius  Cicero  was  born  on  the  Sd  of 
January,  107,  B.  C.  His  mother,  whose  name  was 
Helvia,  was  of  an  honorable  and  wealthy  family ;  his 
father,  named  Marcus,  was  a  wise  and  learned  man 
of  fortune,  who  lived   at   Apulia.      This   city  was 


96  CICERO. 

« 

'anciently  of  the  Samnites,  now  part  of  the  kingdom 
of  Naples.  Here  Cicero  was  born,  at  his  father's 
country  seat,  which  it  seems  was  a  most  charming 
residence. 

The  care  which  the  ancient  Romans  bestowed  upon 
the  education  of  their  children  was  worthy  of  all 
praise.  Their  attention  to  this,  began  from  the  mo- 
ment of  their  birth.  They  were,  in  the  first  place, 
committed  to  the  care  of  some  prudent  matron,  of 
good  character  and  condition,  whose  business  it  was 
to  form  their  first  habits  of  acting  and  speaking ;  to 
watch  their  growing  passions,  and  direct  them  to  their 
proper  objects  ;  to  superintend  their  sports,  and  suffer 
nothing  immodest  or  indecent  to  enter  into  them,  that 
the  mind,  preserved  in  all  its  innocence,  and  unde- 
praved  by  the  taste  of  false  pleasures,  might  be  at 
liberty  to  pursue  whatever  was  laudable,  and  apply 
its  whole  strength  to  that  profession  in  which  it  should 
desire  to  excel. 

Though  it  was  a  common  opinion  among  the 
Romans  that  children  should  not  be  instructed  in  let- 
ters till  they  were  seven  years  old,  yet  careful  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  their  training,  even  from  the  age  of 
three  j^-ears.  It  was  reckoned  a  matter  of  great  impor- 
tance what  kind  of  language  they  were  first  accus- 
tomed to  hear  at  home,  and  in  what  manner  their 
nurses,  and  even  their  fathers  and  mothers  spoke, 
since  their  first  habits  were  then  formed,  either  of  a 
pure  or  corrupt  elocution.  The  two  Gracchi  were 
thought  to  owe  that  elegance  of  speaking  for  which 
they  were  distinguished,  to  their  mother,  Cornelia, 
who  was  a  very  accomplished  woman,  and  remarkable 


CICERO.  97 

for  the  purity  of  her  diction,  as  well  in  speaking  as 
writing. 

Young  Cicero  experienced  the  full  advantage  of 
these  enlightened  views,  in  his  childhood.  When  he 
was  of  sufficient  age  to  enter  upon  a  regular  course 
of  study,  his  father  removed  to  Rome,  and  placed  him 
in  a  public  school,  under  an  eminent  Greek  master. 
Here  he  gave  indications  of  those  shining  abilities, 
which  rendered  him  afterwards  so  illustrious.  His 
school-fellows  carried  home  such  stories  of  his  extra- 
ordinary powers,  that  their  parents  were  often  induced 
to  visit  the  school,  for  the  sake  of  seeing  a  youth  of 
such  endowments. 

Encouraged  by  the  promising  genius  of  his  son 
Cicero's  father  spared  no  cost  or  pains  to  improve  it 
by  the  help  of  the  ablest  professors.  Among  other 
eminent  instructors,  he  enjoyed  the  teaching  of  the 
poet  Archias.  Under  this  master,  he  applied  himself 
chiefly  to  poetry,  to  which  he  was  naturally  addicted, 
and  made  such  proficiency  in  it,  that,  while  he  was 
still  a  boy,  he  composed  and  published  a  poem,  called 
Glaucus  Pontius. 

After  finishing  the  course  of  juvenile  studies,  it 
was  the  custom  to  change  the  dress  of  the  boy  for  that 
of  the  man,  and  take  what  they  called  the  manly 
gown^  or  the  ordinary  robe  of  the  citizen.  This  was 
an  occasion  of  rejoicing,  for  the  youth  thus  passed 
from  the  power  of  his  tutor  into  a  state  of  greater  lib- 
erty. He  was  at  the  same  time  introduced  into  the 
forum,  or  great  square  of  the  city,  where  the  assem- 
blies of  the  people  were  held.     Here,  also,  they  were 


98  CICERO. 

addressed  by  the  magistrates,  and  here  all  the  public 
pleadings  and  judicial  transactions  took  place. 

When  Cicero  was  sixteen  years  old,  he  was  intro- 
duced to  this  place,  with  all  customary  solemnity. 
He  was  attended  by  the  friends  and  dependants  of 
the  family,  and  after  divine  rites  were  performed  in 
the  capital,  he  was  committed  to-  the  special  protec- 
tion of  Q.  Mucius  Scaevola,  the  .principal  lawyer  as 
well  as  statesman  of  that  age. 

Young  Cicero  made  good  use  of  the  advantages  he 
enjoyed.  He  spent  almost  his  whole  time  in  the 
society  of  his  patron,  carefully  treasuring  up  in  his 
memory  the  wisdom  that  fell  from  his  lips.  After 
his  death,  he  came  under  the.  instruction  of  another 
of  the  same  family^Scsevola,  the  high  priest,  a  per- 
son remarkable  for  his  probity  and  skill  in  the  law. 

The  legal  profession,  as  well  as  that  of  arms  and 
eloquence,  was  a  sure  recommendation  to  the  first 
honors  of  the  republic ;  for  it  appears  to  have  been 
the  practice  of  many  of  the  most  eminent  lawyers  to 
give  their  advice  gratis  to  all  that  asked  it.  It  was 
the  custom  of  the  old  senators,  eminent  for  their  wis- 
dom and  experience,  to  walk  up  and  down  the  forum 
in  the  morning,  freely  offering  their  assistance  to  all 
who  had  occasion  to  consult  them,  not  only  in  cases 
of  law,  but  in  relation  to  their  private  affairs.  At  a 
later  period,  they  used  to  sit  at  home,  with  their  doors 
open,  upon  a  kind  of  throne,  or  raised  seat,  giving 
access  and  audience  to  all  who  might  come. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  profession  thus  practised, 
should  be  honored  among  the  Roman  people,  nor  is 
it  wonderful  that  Cicero's  ambitious  mind  should  have 


CICERO.  9ft 

been 'attracted  by  so  obvious  a  road  to  honor  and  pre- 
ferment. But  his  views  were  not  satisfied  with  being 
a  mere  lawyer.  He  desired  especially  to  be  an  ora- 
tor ;>i^- and,  conceiving  *hat  all  kinds  of  knowledge 
would  be  useful  in  such  a  profession,  he  sought  every 
opportunity  to  increase  his  stores  of  information.  He 
also  attended  constantly  at  the  forum,  to  hear  the 
speeches  and  pleadings ;  he  perused  the  best  authors 
with  care,  so  as  to  form  an  elegant  style ;  and  cultivated 
poetry,  for  the  purpose  of  adding  elegance  and  grace 
to  his  mind.  While  he  was  thus  engaged,  he  also 
studied  philosophy,  and,  for  a  time,  was  greatly  pleased 
with  Phaedrus,  the  Epicurean,  .who  then  gave  lessons 
at  Rome.  Though  he  retained  his  affection  for  the 
amiable  philosopher,  Cicero  soon  rejected  his  system 
as  fallacious. 

It  was  always  a  part  of  the  education  of  the  young 
gentlemen  of  Rome,  to  learn  the  art  of  war  by  per- 
sonal service,  under  some  general  of  name  and  expe- 
rience. Cicero  accordingly  took  the  opportunity  to 
make  a  campaign  with  Strabo,  the  father  of  Pompey 
the  Great.  During  this  expedition,  he  manifested 
the  same  diligence  in  the  army  that  he  had  done  in 
the  forum,  to  observe  everything  that  passed.  He 
sought  to  be  always  near  the  person  of  the  general, 
that  nothing  of  importance  might  escape  his  notice. 

Returning  to  Rome,  Cicero  pursued  his  studies  as 
before,  and  about  this  time,  Molo,  the  Rhodian,  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  teachers  of  eloquence  of  that 
age,  coming  to  the  city  to  deliver  lectures  upon  ora- 
tory, he  immediately  took  the  benefit  of  his  instruc- 
tions, and  pursued  his  studies  with  ceaseless  ardor. 


100  CICERO. 

His  ambition  received  an  impulse  at  this  time,  from 
witnessing  the  fame  of  Hortensius,  who  made  the 
first  figure  at  the  bar,  and  whose  praises  fired  him 
with  such  emulation,  that,  for  a  time,  he  scarcely 
allowed  himself  rest  from  his  studies,  either  day  or 
night. 

He  had  in  his  own  house  a  Greek  preceptor,  who 
instructed  him  in  various  kinds  of  learning,  but  more 
particularly  in  logic,  to  which  he  paid  strict  attention. 
He,  however,  never  suffered  a  day  to  pass,  without 
some  exercise  in  oratory,  particularly  that  of  declaim- 
ing, which  he  generally  performed  with  some  of  his 
fellow-students.  He  sometimes  spoke  in  Latin,  but 
more  frequently  in  Greek,  because  the  latter  furnished 
a  greater  variety  of  elegant  expressioub,  and  because 
the  Greek  masteie  were  far  the  best,  and  could  not 
correct  and  improve  their  pupils,  unless  they  de- 
claimed in  that  language. 

Cicero  had  now  passed  through  that  course  of  dis- 
cipline, which,  in  his  treatise  upon  the  subject,  he 
lays  down  as  necessary  for  the  formation  of  an  accom- 
plished orator.  He  declares  that  no  man  should  pre- 
tend to  this,  without  being  acquainted  with  everything 
worth  being  known,  in  art  and  nature ;  that  this  is 
implied  in  the  very  name  of  an  orator,  whose  profes- 
sion is  to  speak  upon  every  subject  proposed  to  him, 
and  whose  eloquence,  without  knowledge,  would  be  i 
little  better  than  the  prattle  and  impertinence  of  chil- 
dren. 

He  had  learnt  grammar  and  the  languages  from] 
the  ablest  teachers ;  passed  through  the  studies  of 
humanity  and  the  polite  letters  with  the  poet  Archias; 


CICERO.  101 

•  * 

I  been  instructed  in  philosophy  by  the  principal  philos- 
ophers of  each  sect — Phsedrus  the'^  epicurean,  Philo 

I  the  academic,  Diodorus  the  Stoic — and  acquired  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  law  from  the  greatest 
jurists  and  statesmen  of  .Rome — the  two  Scsevolas. 

These  accomplishments  he  regarded  but  as  subser- 
vient to  the  object  on  which  his  ambition  was  placed, 
— the  reputation  of  an  orator.  To  qualify  himself, 
therefore,  particularly  for  this,  he  had  attended  the 
pleadings  of  the  greatest  speakers  of  his  time,  Heard 
the  daily  lectures  of  the  most  eminent  orators  of 
Greece,  constantly  written  compositions  at  home,  and 
declaimed  them  under  the  correction  of  these  masters. 
That  he  might  lose  nothing  which  would  in  any 
degree  improve  and  polish  his  style,  he  spent  the 
intervals  of  his  leisure  in  the  company  of  ladies,  espe- 
cially those  who  were  remarkable  for  elegant  con- 
versation, and  whose  fathers  had  been  distinguished 
for  their  eloquence.  While  he  studied  the  law,  there- 
fore, under  Scsevola,  the  augur,  he  frequently  con- 
versed with  his  wife,  Laelia,  whose  discourse  he  says 
was  tinctured  with  all  the  eloquence  of  her  father, 
Laelius,  the  most  polished  orator  of  his  time.  He 
also  frequented  the  society  of  her  daughter,  Mucia, 
as  well  as  that  of  two  of  her  granddaughters,  who  all 
excelled  in  eleo^ance  of  diction,  and  the  most  exact 
and  delicate  use  of  language.  ^  ^ 

It  is  impossible  not  to  admire  the  noble  views  which 
Cicero  had  formed  of  the  profession  to  which  he  was 

^  to  devote  his  life.  Nor  can  we  withhold  praise  for 
the  diligence,  energy  and  judgment  with  which  he 
trained  himself  for  entering  upon  the  theatre  of  his 


102  CICERO. 

♦ 

ambition.  If  in  all  respects  he  is  not  to  be  regarded 
as  a  model  for  imitation,  still,  his  example  is  thus  far 
worthy  of  emulation  to  all  those  who  seek  to  enjoy  a 
virtuous  and  lasting  fame. 

Thus  adorned  and  accomplished,  Cicero,  at  the  age 
of  twenty-six  years,  presented  himself  at  the  bar,  and 
was  soon  employed  in  several  private  causes.  His 
first  case  of  importance  was  the  defence  of  S.  Roscius, 
of  Ameria,  which  he  undertook  in  his  twenty-sev- 
enth year ;  the  same  age  at  which  Demosthenes  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  Athens. 

The  case  of  Roscius  was  this.  His  father  was 
killed  in  the  recent  proscription  of  Sylla,  and  his 
estate,  worth  about  £60,000  sterling,  was  sold,  among 
the  confiscated  estates  of  the  proscribed,  for  a  trifling 
sum,  to  L.  Cornelius  Chrysogonus,  a  young  favorite 
slave,  whom  Sylla  had  made  free,  and  who,  to  secure 
possession  of  it,  accused  the  son  of  the  murder  of  his 
father,  and  had  prepared  evidence  to  convict  him  ;  so 
Uiat  the  young  man  was  likely  to  be  deprived,  not 
only  of  his  fortunes,  but,  by  a  more  villanous  cruelty, 
of  his  honor  also,  and  his  life. 

The  tyrant  Sylla  was  at  this  time  at  the  height  of 
his  power.  Fearing  his  resentment,  therefore,  as 
well  as  the  influence  of  the  prosecutor,  the  older  ad- 
vocates of  Rome  refused  to  undertake  the  defence  of 
Roscius,  particularly  as  it  would  lead  them  into  an 
exposure  of  the  corruptions  of  the  age,  and  the  mis- 
demeanors of  those  high  in  rank  and  office. 

But  Cicero  readily  undertook  it,  as  a  glorious  oppor- 
tunity of  enlisting  in  the  service  of  his  country,  and 
giving  a  public  testimony  of  his  principles,  and  his  zeal 


CICERO.  103 

for  that  liberty,  to  the  support  of  which  he  was  wil- 
ling  to  devote  the  labors  of  his  life.  In  the  manage- 
ment of  the  cause,  he  displayed  great  skill  and  admi- 
rable eloquence.  Roscius  was  acquitted,  and  Cicero 
was  applauded  by  the  whole  city  for  his  courage  and 
address.  From  this  period  he  was  ranked  as  one  of 
the  ablest  advocates  of  Rome. 

Having  occasion  in  the  course  of  his  pleading  to 
mention  that  remarkable  punishment  which  their  an- 
cestors had  contrived  for  the  murder  of  a  parent — that 
of  sewing  the  criminal  alive  into  a  sack,  and  throwing 
him  into  a  river — he  says,  "  that  the  meaning  of  it 
was,  to  strike  him  at  once,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  sys- 
tem of  nature,  by  taking  him  from  the  air,  the  sun, 
the  water,  and  the  earth ;  that  he  who  had  destroyed 
the  author  of  his  being,  should  lose  the  benefit  of 
those  elements  whence  all  things  derive  their  being. 
They  would  not  throw  him  to  the  beasts,  lest  the  con- 
tagion of  such  wickedness  should  make  the  beasts 
themselves  more  furious ;  they  would  not  commit 
him  naked  to  the  stream,  lest  he  should  pollute  the 
very  sea,  which  was  the  purifier  of  all  other  pollu- 
tions ;  they  left  him  no  share  of  anything  natural, 
how  vile  or  common  soever ;  for  what  is  so  common 
as  breath  to  the  living,  earth  to  the  dead,  the  sea  to 
those  who  float,  the  shore  to  those  who  are  cast  up  ? 
Yet  these  wretches  live  so,  as  long  as  they  can,  as 
not  to  draw  breath  from  the  air ;  die  so,  as  not  to 
touch  the  ground ;  are  so  tossed  by  the  waves,  as  not 
to  be  washed  by  them ;  so  cast  out  upon  the  shore, 
as  to  find  no  rest,  even  on  the  rocks." 

This  passage  was  received  with  acclamations  of 


104  CICERO. 

applause ;  yet,  speaking  of  it  afterwards  himself, 
Cicero  calls  it  "  the  redundancy  of  a  juvenile  fancy, 
which  wanted  the  correction  of  his  sounder  judgment ; 
and,  like  all  the  compositions  of  young  men,  was  not 
applauded  so  much  for  its  own  sake,  as  for  the  hopes 
which  it  gave  of  his  more  improved  and  ripened  tal- 
ents, ".^v 

The  popularity  of  his  cause,  and  the  favor  of  the 
audience,  induced  Cicero,  in  the  course  of  his  plea,  to 
expose  the  insolence  and  villany  of  the  favorite, 
Chrysogonus,  with  great  freedom.  He  even  ventured 
some  bold  strokes  at  Sylla  himself.  He  took  care, 
however,  to  palliate  these,  by  observing,  that  through 
the  multiplicity  of  Sylla's  affairs,  who  reigned  as 
absolute  on  earth  as  Jupiter  in  heaven,  it  was  not 
possible  for  him  to  know  everything  that  was  done  by 
his  agents,  and  that  he  was  perhaps  forced  to  connive 
at  some  of  the  corrupt  practices  of  his  favorites. 

Soon  after  this  trial,  Cicero  set  out  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting  Greece  and  Asia,  the  fashionable  tour  of 
that  day  with  those  who  travelled  for  pleasure  or  im- 
provement. At  Athens  he  spent  six  months,  renewing 
the  studies  of  his  youth,  under  celebrated  masters.  He 
was  here  initiated  into  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  the 
end  and  aim  of  which  appear  to  have  been  to  incul* 
cate  the  unity  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

From  Athens,  he  passed  into  Asia,  where  he  was 
visited  by  the  principal  orators  of  the  country.  These 
kept  him  company  through  the  remainder  of  his  tour, 
frequently  exercising  themselves  together  in  oratori- 
cal exhibitions.  They  came  at  last  to  Rhodes,  where 
Cicero  applied  to  Molo,  and  again  became  his  pupil. 


CICERO.  105 

On  a  public  occasion  he  made  an  address,  at  the  end 
of  which,  the  company  were  lavish  of  their  praises. 
Molo  alone  was  silent,  till,  observing  that  Cicero  was 
somewhat  disturbed,  he  said,  "  As  for  you,  Cicero,  I 
praise  and  admire  you,  but  pity  the  fortune  of  Greece, 
to  see  arts  and  eloquence,  the  only  ornaments  which 
were  left  to  her,  transplanted  by  you  to  Rome." 

Soon  after  Cicero's  return  from  his  travels,  he 
pleaded  the  cause  of  the  famous  comedian,  Roscius, 
whom  a  singular  merit  in  his  art  had  recommended 
to  the  familiarity  and  friendship  of  the  greatest  men 
of  Rome.  The  case  was  this.  One  Fannius  had 
made  over  to  Roscius,  a  young  slave,  to  be  trained 
for  the  stage,  on  condition  of  a  partnership  in  the 
profits  which  the  slave  should  acquire  by  acting.  The 
slave  was  afterwards  killed,  and  Roscius  prosecuted 
the  murderer  for  damages,  and  obtained,  by  compo- 
sition, a  little  farm,  worth  about  800  pounds,  for  his 
particular  share.  Fannius  also  sued  separately,  and 
was  supposed  to  have  gained  as  much,  but,  pretend- 
ing to  have  recovered  nothing,  sued  Roscius  for  the 
moiety  of  what  he  had  received. 

One  cannot  but  observe,  from  Cicero's  pleading, 
the  wonderful  esteem  and  reputation  which  Roscius 
enjoyed — of  whom  he  draws  a  very  amiable  pic- 
ture. "  Has  Roscius,  then,"  said  he,  "  defrauded  his 
partner  ?  Can  such  a  stain  adhere  to  such  a  man, 
who — I  speak  it  with  confidence — has  more  integrity 
than  skill,  more  veracity  than  experience ;  whom  the 
people  of  Rome  know  to  be  a  better  man  than  he  is 
an  actor,  and,  while  he  makes  the  first  figure  on  the 
stage  in  his  art,  is  worthy  of  the  senate  for  his  vir- 
tues ? " 


106  CICERO. 

His  daily  pay  for  acting  is  said  to  have  been  about 
thirty  pounds  sterling.  Pliny  computes  his  yearly 
profit  at  4000  pounds ;  but  Cicero  seems  to  rate  it  at 
5000  pounds.  He  was  generous,  benevolent,  and  a 
contemner  of  money ;  after  he  had  raised  an  ample 
fortune  from  the  stage,  he  devoted  his  talents  to  the 
public,  for  many  years,  without  pay ;  whence  Cicero 
urges  it  as  incredible  that  he,  who  in  ten  years  past 
might  honestly  have  gained  fifty  thousand  pounds, 
-  which  he  refused,  should  be  tempted  to  commit  a 
fraud  for  the  paltry  sum  of  four  hundred.  We  need 
but  add  that  the  defence  was  effectual. 

Soon  after  Cicero's  return  to  Rome,  he,  being  about 
thirty  years  of  age,  was  married  to  Terentia,  a  lady 
of  good  station  in  life,  and  of  large  fortune.  Shortly 
after,  he  was  a  candidate  for  the  office  of  qusestor,  in 
which  he  succeeded  by  the  unanimous  suflfrage  of  the 
tribes. 

The  provinces  of  the  qusestors  being  distributed  by 
lot,  the  island  of  Sicily  fell  to  Cicero's  share.  This 
was  called  the  granary  of  the  republic,  and  this  year, 
there  being  great  scarcity  at  Rome,  the  people  were 
clamorous  for  a  supply.  As  it  was  a  part  of  the  duty 
of  the  quaestors  to  supply  the  city  with  corn,  a  difficult 
duty  devolved  upon  Cicero ;  for,  while  he  was  to  see 
that  Rome  was  adequately  furnished,  it  was  necessary 
to  avoid  impoverishing  the  island.  He,  however, 
acquitted  himself  with  the  greatest  prudence  and 
address,  displaying  courtesy  to  the  dealers,  justice  to 
the  merchants,  generosity  to  the  inhabitants,  and,  in. 
short,  doing  all  manner  of  good  offices  to  everybody. 
He  thus  obtained  the  love  and  admiration  of  the  Sicil- 


CICERO. 


107 


ians,  and,  at  his  departure,  they  paid  him  greater 
honors  than  had  ever  been  bestowed,  even  upon  their 
own  governors. 

In  his  hours  of  leisure,  Cicero  pursued  his  rhetori- 
cal studies,  making  it  a  rule  never  to  let  a  day  pass 
without  some  exercise  of  this  kind.  At  the  expira- 
tion of  his  year,  he  left  the  island,  and,  on  his  return 
to  Rome,  he  stopped  at  Baiae,  the  chief  seat  of  pleas- 
ure at  that  time  in  Italy,  and  where  there  was  a  per- 
petual resort  of  the  rich  and  great,  as  well  on  account 
of  its  delightful  situation,  as  for  the  use  of  its  luxu- 
rious baths  and  tepid  waters. 

Pleased  with  the  success  of  his  administration,  and 
flattering  himself  that  all  Rome  was  celebrating  his 
praises,  he  reached  this  place,  and  mingled  amongst 
the  crowd.  What  was  his  disappointment  and  mor- 
tification, to  be  asked  by  the  first  friend  he  met,  "  How 
long  since  you  left  Rome,  and  what  is  the  news 
there?"  "  I  came  from  the  provinces,"  was  the  re- 
ply. '*  From  Africa,  I  suppose,"  said  one  of  the 
bystanders.  "  No,  I  came  from  Sicily,"  said  Cicero, 
a  little  vexed.  "  How,  did  you  not  know  that  Cicero 
was  qusestor  of  Syracuse  ?  "  said  another  person  pres- 
ent ;  thus  showing  his  ignorance,  while  he  pretended 
to  be  wiser  than  the  rest.  This  incident  humbled 
Cicero  for  the  time,  and  made  him  feel  that  he  had 
not  yet  made  himself  so  conspicuous  as  to  live  per- 
petually in  the  eye  of  so  mighty  a  city  as  Rome. 

Having  now  devoted  himself  to  a  life  of  business 
and  ambition,  he  omitted  none  of  the  usual  arts  of 
recommending  himself  to  popular  favor,  and  facilitat- 
ing his  advancement  to  the  highest  honors.     "  He 


108  CICERO. 

thought  it  absurd,"  says  Plutarch,  "  that,  when  every 
little  artificer  knew  the  name  and  use  of  all  his  tools, 
a  statesman  should  neglect  the  knowledge  of  men, 
who  were  the  proper  instruments  with  which  he  was 
to  work ;  he  made  it  his  business,  therefore,  to  learn 
the  name,  the  place,  and  the  condition  of  every  emi- 
nent citizen ;  what  estate,  what  friends,  what  neigh- 
bors he  had ;  and  could  readily  point  out  their  several 
houses,  as  he  travelled  through  Italy." 

This  knowledge  was  deemed  so  necessary  at  Rome, 
where  the  people  expected  to  be  courted  by  their  pub- 
lic men,  that  every  individual  who  aspired  to  official 
dignities,  kept  a  slave  or  two  in  his  family,  whose 
sole  business  it  was  to  know  the  name  and  person  of 
every  citizen  at  sight,  so  that  he  might  whisper  them 
to  his  master  as  he  passed  through  the  streets,  and 
enable  him  to  salute  them  familiarly,  as  particular 
acquaintances.  Such  artifices,  which  appear  degrad- 
ing in  our  day,  were  by  no  means  beneath  the  prac- 
tice of  one  so  elevated  in  his  sense  of  propriety  as 
Cicero. 

Having  reached  his  thirty-seventh  year,  and  being 
therefore  eligible  to  the  office  of  edile,  he  offered  him- 
self as  a  candidate,  and  was  elected  by  the  people. 
Before  he  entered  upon  its  duties,  however,  he  under- 
took the  prosecution  of  C.  Verres,  the  late  praetor  of 
Sicily,  charged  with  many  flagrant  acts  of  injustice, 
rapine  and  cruelty,  during  his  triennial  government 
of  that  island.  This  was  one  of  the  most  memorable 
transactions  of  Cicero's  life,  and  has  given  him  greater 
fame  than  any  other. 

In  order  to  obtain  the  evidence,  he  proceeded  to 


CICERO.  109 

Sicily,  where  he  was  received  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness and  favor,  though  every  art  was  resorted  to,  hy 
the  agents  of  Verres,  to  obstruct  his  inquiries.  On 
his  return,  he  found  the  most  formidable  preparations 
to  resist  him.  Hoitensius  was  engaged  for  Verres, 
and  several  of  the  leading  families  had  taken  his  part. 
Cicero,  however,  produced  his  witnesses,  whose  de- 
positions overwhelmed  the  criminal  with  such  proofs 
of  guilt,  that  Hortensius  had  nothing  to  say  for  his 
client,  who  submitted  without  defence  to  a  voluntary 
exile. 

From  this  account,  it  appears,  that,  of  the  seven 
orations  on  the  subject  of  this  trial,  which  now  remain 
among  the  works  of  Cicero,  two  only  were  spoken, 
and  these  contain  little  more  than  a  statement  of  the 
whole  case.  The  five  others  were  published  after- 
wards, as  they  were  prepared,  and  intended  to  be 
spoken,  if  Verres  had  made  a  regular  defence. 

From  the  evidence  produced,  it  appears  that  every 
species  of  rapine  was  practised  without  scruple  by 
Verres,  during  his  pra3torship.  Cicero  estimated 
the  amount  of  his  plunder  at  800,000  pounds  sterling, 
or  nearly  four  millions  of  dollars.  It  is  shocking  to 
read  the  black  catalogue  of  this  man's  crimes ;  yet, 
such  was  the  corruption  of  society,  especially  among 
the  higher  classes,  that  Cicero,  instead  of  gaining 
favor  by  his  exposure  of  these  abuses,  brought  upon 
himself  the  hatred  and  ill-will  of  the  largest  portion 
of  the  nobility.  They  doubtless  looked  upon  the  pub- 
I  lie  offices  as  their  inheritance,  and  did  not  like  to  see 
the  accustomed  privileges  of  the  provincial  governors 
abridged.     We  may  add  here  that  Verres  continued 


110  CICERO. 

long  in  a  miserable  exile,  deserted  and  forgotten  by 
his  former  friends,  and  was  actually  relieved  in  his 
necessities  by  the  generosity  of  Cicero.  He  was 
afterwards  proscribed  and  murdered  by  Mark  Antony, 
in  order  to  obtain  some  fine  statues,  which  he  had 
obtained  by  robbery,  during  his  government  in  Sicily, 
and  which  he  had  refused  to  part  with,  even  in  the 
extremity  of  his  poverty. 

From  the  impeachment  of  Verres,  Cicero  entered 
upon  the  office  of  edile,  and  in  one  of  his  speeches 
gives  a  short  account  of  its  duties.  "  I  am  now  cho- 
sen edile,"  says  he,  "  and  am  sensible  of  what  is  com- 
mitted to  me  by  the  Roman  people.  I  am  to  exhibit 
with  the  greatest  solemnity  the  most  sacred  sports  to 
Ceres,  Liber,  and  Libera ;  am  to  appease  and  concil- 
iate the  mother  Flora  to  the  people  and  city  of  Rome, 
by  the  celebration  of  the  public  games ;  am  to  fur- 
nish out  those  ancient  shows,  the  first  which  were 
called  Roman,  with  all  possible  dignity  and  religion, 
in  honor  of  Jupiter,  Juno,  Minerva ;  am  to  take  care 
also  of  all  the  sacred  edifices,  and,  indeed,  of  the  whole 
city.'* 

The  people  of  Rome  were  passionately  fond  of 
the  public  games  and  diversions,  and  the  allowance  for 
them  being  small,  the  ediles  were  obliged  to  supply 
the  rest.  Many  of  them,  in  their  ambition  to  flatter 
the  people  and  obtain  their  favor,  incurred  such  ex- 
pense in  these  entertainments,  as  to  involve  themselves 
in  ruin.  Every  part  of  the  empire  was  ransacked 
for  whatever  was  rare  and  curious  to  increase  the 
splendor  of  these  shows ;  the  forum,  in  which  they 
were  exhibited,  was  usually  beautified  with  porticoes, 


^    V^        OF   THB  ^      \ 


[UNIVEESITY 

for  the  purpose,  and  these  were  decorated  with  the 
choicest  pictures  and  statues,  which  Rome,  and  indeed, 
all  Italy  could  furnish.  Several  of  the  great  men  of 
Cicero's  time  had  distinguished  their  magistracy  by 
their  magnificence,  some  of  them  having  entertained 
the  city  with  stage  plays,  in  which  the  scenes  were 
entirely  covered  with  silver.  Caesar,  in  the  sports 
exhibited  upon  the  occasion  of  his  father's  funeral, 
caused  the  entire  furniture  of  the  theatre  to  be  made 
of  solid  silver,  so  that  the  wild  beasts  trod  upon  that 
metal. 

Unseduced  by  these  examples,  Cicero  took  the 
middle  course,  which  was  suited  to  his  circumstances. 
In  compliance  with  the  custom,  he  gave  three  enter- 
tainments, which  were  conducted  with  taste,  and  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  people.  The  Sicilians  gave 
him  effectual  proofs  of  their  gratitude  by  supplying 
him  largely  with  provisions  for  the  use  of  his  table  and 
the  public  feasts  he  was  obliged  to  provide.  Cicero, 
however,  took  no  private  advantage  of  these  gifts,  for 
he  distributed  the  whole  to  the  poor. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  office  of  edile,  Cicero  was 
chosen  praetor  ;  a  magistrate  next  in  dignity  to  a  con- 
|sul.  The  business  of  the  praetors  was  to  preside  and 
judge  in  all  causes,  especially  of  a  public  or  criminal 
kind.  There  were  eight  of  them,  and  their  several 
jurisdictions  were  assigned  by  lot.  It  fell  to  Cicero 
to  hear  charges  of  extortion  and  rapine,  brought 
against  magistrates  and  governors  of  provinces.  In 
this  office,  he  acquired  great  reputation  for  integrity 
and  impartiality — qualities,  in  the  corrupted  state  of 
Rome,  scarcely  to  be  found,  either  in  public  or  private 


112  CICERO. 

life,  among  men  of  high  stations.  While  he  seemed 
full  of  employment  as  praetor,  and  attentive  to  his 
duties  in  the  senate,  Cicero  still  had  a  large  practice 
as  advocate.  It  is  evident  that  nothing  but  ceaseless 
industry  and  wonderful  facility  in  the  despatch  of 
business,  could  have  enabled  him  to  discharge  his 
multifarious  duties,  and  with  such  surpassing  ability. 

His  office  of  praetor  having  expired,  Cicero  now 
fixed  his  hopes  upon  the  consulship.  While  he  was 
aiming  at  this,  and  resorting  to  all  the  ordinary  means 
of  attaining  his  object,  by  flattering  the  people,  allay- 
ing the  hostility  of  the  nobles,  and  strengthening  his 
interest  on  every  hand,  he  was  expending  large  sums 
of  money  in  decorating  his  several  villas,  especially 
that  of  Tusculum,  in  which  he  took  the  greatest 
pleasure.  This  was  situated  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Rome,  and  furnished  him  an  easy  retreat  from  the 
hurry  and  fatigue  of  the  city.  Here  he  built  several 
rooms  and  galleries,  in  imitation  of  the  schools  and 
porticoes  of  Athens,  in  which  he  was  accustomed  to 
hold  philosophical  conversations  with  his  learned 
friends.  He  had  given  Atticus,  a  lover  of  the  arts, 
who  resided  at  Athens,  a  general  commission  to  pur- 
chase for  him  pictures,  statues  and  other  curiosities ; 
and  Atticus,  having  a  rare  taste  in  these  matters,  thus 
assisted  him  to  embellish  and  enrich  his  residence 
with  a  choice  collection  of  works  of  art  and  literary 
treasures,  of  various  kinds. 

Cicero,  being  now  in  his  forty-third  year,  became 
eligible  as  consul,  and  offered  himself  as  a  candidate 
for  that  high  office.  As  the  election  approached,  his 
interest  appeared  to  take  the  lead ;  for  the  nobles,  en- 


CICERO.  113 

vious  and  jealous  of  him  as  they  were,  were  alarmed 
by  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  times,  and  saw  the 
necessity  of  entrusting  the  consular  power  to  strong 
and  faithful  hands.  The  intrigues  of  Caesar,  the  plots 
of  Cataline,  the  ambition  of  Pompey,  seemed  to  heave 
and  convulse  the  elements  of  society  to  its  foundation, 
and  portend  a  storm  which  threatened  the  very  exist- 
ence of  the  state.  Thus,  by  the  voices  of  the  people 
as  well  as  the  favor  of  the  patricians,  Cicero  was  pro- 
claimed First  Consul,  and  Antonius  was  chosen  his 
colleague. 

This  year,  Cicero's  father  died  in  a  good  old  age, 
and  he  gave  his  daughter  Tullia,  in  marriage,  at  the, 
age  of  thirteen,  to  C.  Piso  Frugi,  a  young  nobleman 
of  great  hopes  and  of  one  of  the  best  families  in  Rome. 
He  was  also  much  gratified  by  the  birth  of  a  son  and 
heir  to  his  family. 

Cicero  had  now  passed  through  the  usual  grada- 
tions to  the  highest  honors  which  the  people  could 
bestow,  or  a  citizen  desire.  He  entered  upon  his 
trust  with  a  patriotic  determination  to  discharge  its 
duties,  not  so  much  according  to  the  fleeting  humor,  as 
the  lasting  interests  of  the  people.  The  most  remark- 
able event  of  his  consulship  was  the  conspiracy  of 
Cataline,  which  he  detected  by  his  sagacity,  and  de- 
feated by  his  courage  and  address. 

Cataline  was  adapted  by  art  and  nature,  to  be  the 
leader  of  desperate  enterprises.  He  was  of  an  illus- 
trious family,  of  ruined  fortunes,  profligate  heart, 
undaunted  courage  and  unwearied  industry.  He  had 
a  capacity  equal  to  the  hardiest  attempt,  a  tongue  that 
could  seduce,  an  eloquence  to  persuade,  a  hand  to 

H 


114  CICERO. 

execute.  His  character,  compounded  of  contradictory 
qualities — of  great  virtues,  mastered  by  still  greater 
vices — is  forcibly  drawn  by  Cicero  himself. 

"  Who,"  said  he,  "  was  more  agreeable  at  one  time 
to  the  best  citizens  ?  Who  more  intimate  at  another 
with  the  worst  ?  Who  a  man  of  better  principles  ? 
Who  a  fouler  enemy  to  this  city  ?  Who  more  intem- 
perate in  pleasure  ?  Who  more  patient  in  labor  ? 
Who  more  rapacious  in  plundering,  who  more  pro- 
ji  fuse  in  squandering?  He  had  a  wonderful  faculty 
of  engaging  men  to  his  friendship  and  obliging  them 
by  his  observance ;  sharing  with  them  in  common 
whatever  he  was  master  of;  serving  them  with  his 
money,  his  interest,  his  pains,  and,  when  there  was 
occasion,  by  the  most  daring  acts  of  villany,  moulding 
his  nature  to  his  purposes,  and  bending  it  every  way 
to  his  will.  With  the  morose,  he  could  live  severely ; 
with  the  free,  gayly ;  with  the  old,  gravely ;  with  the 
young,  cheerfully ;  with  the  enterprising,  audaciously ; 
with  the  vicious,  luxuriously.  By  a  temper  so  vari- 
ous and  pliable,  he  gathered  about  him  the  profligate 
and  the  rash  from  all  countries ;  yet  held  attached  to 
him,  at  the  same  time,  many  brave  and  worthy  men, 
by  the  specious  show  of  a  pretended  virtue." 

Associated  in  the  plot,  with  Cataline,  were  about 
thirty-five  individuals  as  leaders,  some  of  them  sena- 
tors, and  all  of  them  men  of  rank  and  consideration. 
Several  were  from  the  colonies  and  the  larger  towns 
of  Italy.  Among  the  most  important  of  these  per- 
sons were  Lentulus  and  Cethegus,  both  patricians, 
possessing  powerful  family  influence  ;  the  two  Syllas, 
nephews  of  the  dictator ;  Cassius,  who  was  a  compet- 


CICERO.  115 

itor  with  Cicero  for  the  consulship,  and  Autronius, 
who  had  obtained  an  election  to  that  ofRce,  but  was 
not  permitted  to  hold  it,  on  account  of  his  gross  bri- 
beries. Julius  Csesar  was  suspected  of  being  also 
engaged  in  the  scheme,  but  it  is  probable  that  while 
he  was  willing  to  see  it  attempted,  hoping  to  be  ben- 
efited by  the  convulsion  that  might  follow,  he  was 
too  wary  to  commit  himself  by  any  overt  act  of 
treason. 

A  meeting  of  the  conspirators  was  finally  held,  in 
which  it  was  resolved  that  a  general  insurrection 
should  be  raised  throughout  Italy,  the  different  parts 
of  which  were  assigned  to  different  leaders.  Cataline 
was  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  troops  in  Etru- 
ria ;  Rome  was  to  be  set  on  fire  in  different  places  at 
once,  under  the  direction  of  Cassius,  and  a  general 
massacre  of  the  senate,  with  all  the  enemies  of  the 
conspirators,  was  to  be  affected  under  the  manage- 
ment of  Cithegus.  The  vigilance  of  Cicero 'being 
the  chief  occasion  of  their  apprehensions,  two  knights 
of  the  company  undertook  to  gain  access  to  his  house 
early  the  next  morning,  upon  pretence  of  business, 
and,  rushing  into  his  chamber,  to  kill  him  in  his  bed. 

But  no  sooner  was  the  meeting  over,  than  Curius, 
one  of  the  assembly,  and  in  the  interest  of  Cicero, 
sent  him  a  particillar  account  of  all  that  had  trans- 
pired. He  immediately  imparted  the  intelligence  to 
some  of  the  chiefs  of  the  city,  who  assembled  at  his 
house  that  night,  and  made  preparations  for  the  emer- 
gency. The  two  knights  came  before  break  of  day 
to  Cicero's  house,  but  had  the  mortification  to  find  it 
carefully  guarded.     Cataline  had  set  out  in  the  hope 


116 


CICERO. 


# 


of  surprising  the  town  of  Preneste,  one  of  the  strongest 
fortresses  of  Italy,  and  within  twenty-five  miles  of 
Rome ;  but  Cicero's  messenger  anticipated  him, 
and  when  the  attack  was  made  the  next  night,  he 
found  the  place  so  well  guarded,  as  to  forbid  an  as- 
sault. 

Cicero  now  assembled  the  senate  at  the  temple  of 
Jupiter,  in  the  capital,  where  they  were  accustomed 
to  meet  only  in  times  of  public  alarm,  and  laid  before 
them  the  facts  which  we  have  narrated.  Cataline  had 
returned  to  Rome,  and  being  a  member  of  the  senate, 
met  the  charge  with  profound  dissimulation  and  the 
most  subtle  cunning.  Cicero,  however,  poured  forth 
upon  him  such  a  torrent  of  invective,  and  placed  his 
guilt  in  so  strong  a  light,  that  the  conspirator  became 
desperate,  made  a  threatening  speech  to  the  senate, 
and  left  the  hall.  That  night,  he  departed  and  re- 
paired with  expedition  to  head  the  forces  at  Etruria. 
The  result  of  the  whole  enterprise  was,  that  several 
of  the  accomplices  were  executed,  and  Cataline  him- 
self fell  bravely  fighting  at  the  head  of  those  troops 
he  had  induced  to  join  his  cause.  Cicero  received 
the  thanks  of  the  senate,  and  the  most  unbounded 
applause  at  the  hands  of  the  people. 

Cicero's  administration  being  now  at  an  end,  no- 
thing remained  but  to  resign  the  consulship,  according 
to  custom,  in  an  assembly  of  the  people,  and  declare 
upon  oath  that  he  had  administered  the  office  with 
fidelity.  It  was  usual  for  the  consul,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, to  address  the  people,  and  on  the  present 
occasion  an  immense  concourse  of  people  met  to  hear 
the  farewell  speech  of  Cicero.     But  Metellus,  one  of 


CICERO.  117 

the  new  tribunes,  ambitious  to  signalize  himself  by 
some  display  of  that  remarkable  veto  power  commit- 
ted to  the  tribunes,  determined  to  disappoint  the  ora- 
tor and  the  audience. 

Accordingly,  when  Cicero  had  mounted  the  ros- 
trum, and  was  about  to  address  the  people,  Metellus 
interfered,  remarking  that  he  who  had  put  citizens 
to  death  unheard,  ought  not  to  be  permitted  to  speak 
for  himself.  This  was  a  reflection  upon  Cicero, 
because  the  associates  of  Cataline  had  been  executed 
by  a  vote  of  the  senate,  without  the  ordinary  trial. 
Cicero,  however,  was  never  at  a  loss,  and,  instead 
of  pronouncing  the  usual  form  of  the  oath,  exalted 
his  voice  so  that  all  the  people  might  hear  him,  say- 
ing, "  I  have  saved  the  republic  and  the  city  from 
ruin  !  "  The  vast  multitude  caught  the  sounds,  and, 
with  one  acclamation,  declared,  "  You  have  sworn  the 
truth  ! "  Thus,  the  intended  affront  of  Metellus  was 
turned  to  the  advantage  of  Cicero,  and  he  was  con- 
ducted from  the  forum  to  his  house  with  every  demon- 
stration of  respect  by  the  whole  city. 

It  was  about  this  period  that  Cicero  is  supposed  to 
have  pronounced  his  oration,  still  extant,  in  defence 
of  his  old  preceptor,  Archias.  He,  doubtless,  expected 
from  his  muse  an  immortality  of  fame  ;  for  Archias 
had  sung  in  Greek  verse  the  triumphs  of  Marius  over 
the  Cimbri,  and  of  Lucullus  over  Mithridates.  He 
appears,  however,  to  have  died  without  celebrating 
the  consulship  of  Cicero ;  and  Archias,  instead  of 
adding  to  the  fame  of  the  orator,  would  have  been 
buried  in  complete  oblivion,  had  not  his  memory  been 
perpetuated  in  the  immortal  pages  of  his  pupil. 


118  CICERO. 

Pompey  the  Great  now  returned  to  Rome,  in  the 
height  of  his  fame  and  fortunes,  from  the  Mithridatic 
war.  It  had  been  apprehended  that  he  was  coming 
back  to  Rome,  at  the  head  of  his  army,  to  seize  upon 
the  government.  It  is  certain  that  he  had  this  in  his 
power,  and  Csesar,  with  the  tribune  Metellus,  was 
inviting  him  to  it.  But  he  seemed  content,  for  the 
time,  with  the  glory  he  had  achieved.  By  his  victo- 
ries he  had  extended  the  boundaries  of  the  empire 
into  Asia,  having  reduced  three  powerful  kingdoms 
there,  Pontus,  Syria  and  Bithynia,  to  the  condition  of 
Roman  provinces,  taken  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and 
left  the  other  nations  of  the  east,  as  far  as  the  Tigris, 
tributary  to  the  republic. 

For  these  great  services,  a  triumph  was  decreed 
him,  which  lasted  two  days,  and  was  the  most  splen- 
did that  had  ever  been  seen  in  Rome.  Of  the  spoils, 
he  erected  a  temple  to  Minerva,  with  an  inscription 
giving  a  summary  of  his  victories : — "  that  he  had 
finished  a  war  of  thirty  years ;  had  vanquished,  slain, 
and  taken  two  millions  one  hundred  and  eighty-three 
thousand  men ;  sunk  or  taken  eight  hundred  and  for- 
ty-six ships ;  reduced  to  the  power  of  the  empire  a 
thousand  GiVe  hundred  and  thirty-eight  towns  and  for- 
tresses, and  subdued  all  the  countries  between  the 
lake  Moeris  and  the  Red  Sea." 

The  spectacle  which  Rome,  at  this  period,  presents 
is  full  of  warning  to  mankind.  In  the  very  height 
of  her  pride  and  her  power,  holding  the  whole  civil- 
ized world  in  her  grasp,  she  was  still  torn  with 
dissensions,  and  corrupted  through  every  vein  and 
*  artery  of  society.    With  political  institutions  favorable 


CICERO.  119 

to  liberty,  and  calculated  to  promote  public  and  private 
virtue ;  yet  vice  and  crime  stained  the  character  of 
public  men,  v^hile  profligacy,  in  every  form,  charac- 
terized the  people  at  large. 

Nor  could  anything  better  be  expected ;  for  the 
general  policy  of  the  nation  was  alike  wicked  and 
unwise.  Instead  of  seeking  prosperity  by  the  peace- 
ful arts  of  life,  they  sought  to  enrich  themselves  by 
robbing  other  nations.  War  was  the  great  trade  of 
the  state ;  the  soldier  was  a  hero ;  a  successful  gen- 
eral, the  idol  of  the  nation.  The  greatest  plunderer 
received  the  greatest  honors,  and  glory  was  propor- 
tioned to  the  blood  spilled  and  the  spoils  obtained.  A 
system  so  immoral  could  not  fail  to  debauch  the  na- 
tion, nor  was  it  difficult  to  see  that,  from  robbing  other 
countries,  the  victorious  general,  having  attached  the 
soldiery  to  himself  by  leading  them  on  to  booty,  would 
soon  learn  to  turn  his  arms  against  the  country. 
Such  had  now  become  the  experience  of  Rome  ;  and 
the  natural  course  of  ambition  seemed  to  be  to  obtain 
the  command  of  an  army  in  some  of  the  provinces, 
gorge  the  soldiers  with  plunder,  and,  having  become 
the  idol  of  the  troops,  to  march  upon  Rome  and  seize, 
by  intimidation  or  force,  the  sceptre  of  power.  Such 
a  course  had  been  expected  of  Pompey,  and  was  soon 
after  adopted  by  Caesar. 

The  triumvirate,  consisting  of  Caesar,  Pompey  and 
Crassus,  was  now  formed,  and  Cicero  yielded,  for  a 
time,  to  their  power.  His  patriotism  and  integrity 
were  obstacles,  however,  to  the  success  of  their 
schemes,  and  he  became  the  object  of  their  hatred 
and  persecution.    Perceiving  the  storm  that  was  ready 


120  CICERO. 

to  burst  over  him,  he  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of 
Pompey  and  begged  his  protection.  This,  however, 
was  refused ;  and  seeing  no  alternative  but  to  defend 
himself  by  force,  or  retreat  till  the  storm  had  blown 
over,  he  adopted  the  latter  course  by  the  advice  of 
Cato  and  Hortensius.  He  left  the  city,  and,  attended 
by  a  numerous  train  of  friends,  pursued  his  way  to 
Sicily.  \'. 

After  his  departure,  the  dissolute  Clodius,  who  had 
become  tribune,  caused  a  law  to  be  passed,  denounc- 
ing Cicero  in  violent  terms,  and  forbidding  all  persons, 
on  pain  of  death,  to  harbor  or  receive  him.  Imme- 
diately after,  his  houses,  both  in  the  city  and  country, 
were  given  up  to  plunder ;  the  marble  columns  of  his 
dwelling  on  the  Palatine  hill  were  carried  away  by 
one  of  the  consuls,  and  the  rich  furniture  of  his  Tuscu- 
lum  villa,  by  another.  Even  the  ornamental  trees  of 
his  plantations  were  taken  up  and  transplanted  to  one 
of  his  neighbor's  grounds.  To  make  the  loss  of  his 
house  in  Rome  irretrievable,  Clodius  caused  the  spacje 
to  be  consecrated  to  the  service  of  religion,  and  a 
temple  to  be  built  upon  it,  dedicated  to  the  goddess 
of  liberty ! 

Nor  did  the  vengeance  of  Cicero's  enemies  stop  here. 
Clodius  pursued  his  wife  and  children  with  the  same 
fury,  and  made  several  attempts  to  gain  access  to  his 
son,  then  six  years  old,  with  the  intention  of  putting 
him  to  death.  But  the  child  was  carefully  guarded, 
and  finally  removed  from  the  reach  of  his  malice. 
Terentia  took  sanctuary  in  the  temple  of  Vesta,  but 
she  was  dragged  forcibly  out,  and  insolently  exam- 
ined as  to  the  concealment  of  her  husband's  property. 


1 


CICERO.  121 

Being  a  woman  of  singular  spirit,  however,  she  bore 
these  indignities  with  masculine  courage.    • 

The  desolation  of  Cicero's  fortunes  at  home,  and 
the  misery  which  he  suffered  abroad,  in  being  de- 
prived of  everything  that  was  dear  to  him,  soon  made 
him  repent  his  flight.  His  suffering  was  increased 
on  reaching  Sicily,  for  there  he  found  his  former 
friends  afraid  to  receive  him,  in  consequence  of  the 
decree  of  banishment  which  had  been  passed  at 
Kome,  and  which  forbade  him  to  remain  within  four 
hundred  miles  of  the  city.  He  therefore  found  it 
necessary  to  leave  Sicily,  and  after  various  changes 
of  opinion,  he  resolved  to  proceed  to  Thessalonica,  in 
Macedonia.  Here  he  took  up  his  residence  with  his 
friend  Plaucius,  who  treated  him  with  the  utmost 
kindness. 

Cicero  was  so  dejected  by  his  misfortunes,  that  he 
shut  himself  up  in  his  apartments,  and  refused  to  see 
all  company.  When  his  brother,  Quintus,  was  on  his 
way  from  Asia  to  Rome,  Cicero  felt  incapable  of  sup- 
porting an  interview,  and  did  not  see  him,  so  deeply 
were  his  feelings  affected.  At  the  same  time,  his 
letters  to  his  friends  were  full  of  regret,  complaint 
and  despondency.  It  is  obvious  that,  in  this  period 
of  trial,  he  displayed  great  weakness  of  character, 
though  it  is  probable  that  his  affectionate  disposition 
— his  fondness  for  his  children,  and  love  of  his  friends 
— rendered  separation  from  them  an  evil  almost  worse 
than  death.  It  would  seem>  also,  that  he  had  so  long 
enjoyed' the  homage  paid  to  his  talents,  had  so  long 
lived  in  the  blaze  oi  popular  favor,  that  his  present 


122  CICERO. 

exile  seemed  like  being  deprived  of  the  very  light  of 
heaven. 

But  the  period  of  his  return  to  Rome  was  now  ap- 
proaching. Clodius,  by  a  series  of  the  most  flagrant 
outrages,  made  himself  hated  at  Rome,  and  finally 
put  himself  in  opposition  to  Pompey  himself.  The 
people  at  large  were  favorable  to  Cicero,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  the  senate,  with  great  unanimity, 
passed  a  resolution  favorable  to  his  recall.  Pompey 
urged  the  measure  with  ardor,  and  declared  that 
Cicero  ought  to  be  received  with  such  honors,  as 
might  atone  for  the  sorrows  of  his  exile. 

Preparations  were  made  to  obtain  the  passage  of  a 
law  coinciding  with  the  resolve  of  the  senate ;  but 
Clodius,  with  his  slaves  and  a  multitude  of  hired 
gladiators,  resisted  the  tribunes  who  sought  to  gain 
possession  of  the  market-place,  for  that  purpose.  Sev- 
eral bloody  encounters  followed,  and  for  a  time  the 
streets  of  Rome  were  deluged  with  blood.  The  dead 
bodies  were  thrown  into  the  Tiber,  which  were  so 
numerous  as  almost  to  obstruct  its  channel.  Nothing 
can  better  show  the  greatness  of  Cicero's  reputation, 
than  the  facts  now  transpiring  in  Rome.  For  several 
months  the  attention  of  the  people  of  that  city,  and  of 
Italy,  was  wholly  occupied  with  the  question  of  his 
recall.  The  ambassadors  of  kings,  the  messengers  of 
princes, — affairs  which  involved  the  fate  of  nations, — 
were  all  laid  aside,  till  this  absorbing  subject  could  be 
disposed  of. 
I*  The  senate,  after  long  deliberation,  and  in  a  full 

assembly,  at  last  passed  a  decree  for  his  restoration ; 
Clodius,  among  four  hundred  and  fifty,  giving  the  only 


•f 


¥W' 


CICERO.  123 

vote  against  it.  When  the  news  reached  a  neigh- 
boring theatre,  the  air  was  rent  with  acclamation. 
JEsopus,  the  actor,  was  performing,  at  the  time,  the 
part  of  Timolean,  banished  from  the  country,  in  one 
of  the  plays  of  Accius.  By  a  happy  change  of 
a  few  words,  and  giving  the  utmost  effect  to  his 
voice,  he  directed  the  thoughts  of  the  audience  to 
Cicero,  while  he  uttered  these  sentences,  "  What,  he 
who  always  stood  up  for  the  republic  !  who,  in  doubt- 
ful times,  spared  neither  life  nor  fortunes — the  great- 
est friend  in  the  greatest  dangers — of  such  parts  and 
talents  !  0  Father — I  saw  his  house  and  rich  furni- 
ture all  in  flames  !  0,  ungrateful  Greeks,  inconstant 
people  ;  forgetful  of  services, — to  see  such  a  man 
banished,  driven  from  his  country,  and  suffer  him  to 
continue  in  this  condition  ! "  It  is  not  possible  to  de- 
scribe th^  thrilling  effect  of  these  words,  or  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  people.  When  Lentulus,  the  consul, 
who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  Cicero's  favor,  en- 
tered the  place,  they  all  rose  up,  stretched  out  their 
hands,  and,  with  tears  of  joy  and  loud  acclamations, 
testified  their  thanks.  Several  of  the  senators  coming 
into  the  theatre,  were  received  with  the  most  deafen- 
ing applause.  Clodius  also  making  his  appearance, 
was  assailed  by  reproaches,  threats  and  curses. 

Though  a  decree  was  now  regularly  obtained  for 
Cicero's  return,  Clodius  had  still  the  courage  and  ad- 
dress to  hinder  its  sanction  by  the  popular  assemblies. 
There  were  several  meetings  of  the  senate,  and  the 
whole  city  was  shaken  to  its  foundation  with  the 
question  now  at  issue.  All  Italy  and  indeed  many 
of  the  remote  provinces  were  thrown  into  a  state  of 


124  CICERO. 

ferment  by  the  struggle,  and  the  mighty  interests  of 
the  empire  were  postponed  till  this  important  question 
could  be  settled.  Ptolemy,  the  king  of  Egypt,  driven 
from  his  kingdom,  and  seeking  protection  at  the 
hands  of  Rome,  even  though  a  lodger  in  Pompey's 
house,  could  not  obtain  an  audience,  till  Cicero's 
cause  w^as  decided. 

The  greatest  preparations  were  now  made  for  sub- 
mitting the  question  to  the  popular  assemblies. 
Never  had  there  been  known  so  numerous  and  sol- 
emn a  gathering  of  the  Roman  people  as  on  this 
occasion.  The  whole  country  seemed  to  be  drawn  to- 
gether. It  was  reckoned  a  sin  to  be  absent.  Neither 
age  nor  infirmity  was  thought  a  sufficient  excuse  for 
failing  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  the  restoration  of 
Cicero.  The  meeting  was  held  in  the  field  of  Mars, 
for  the  more  convenient  reception  of  so  ya^  a  multi- 
tude. It  was  an  august  scene.  The  senators  presided 
at  the  polls,  to  see  the  ballots  fairly  taken.  The 
result  was  that  Cicero  was  recalled  from  exile  by  the 
unanimous  suffrage  of  all  the  hundreds,  and  to  the 
infinite  joy  of  the  whole  city  ! 

Cicero,  having  been  advised  of  the  course  of  events, 
had  returned  as  far  as  Brundusium,  where  he  was 
met  by  his  daughter  Tullia.  In  a  few  days  he  re- 
ceived the  welcome  intelligence  of  his  recall.  Set- 
ting out  immediately  for  Rome,  he  everywhere 
received  the  most  lively  demonstrations  of  joy  from 
the  people.  Multitudes  were  drawn  together  to  con- 
gratulate him  on  his  return.  The  whole  road,  from 
Brundusium  to  Rome,  being  crowded  with  men, 
women,   and   children,  seemed   like   one   continued 


CICERO.  125 

street.  Every  prefecture,  town  and  colony  throughout 
Italy  decreed  him  statues,  or  public  honors,  and  sent 
deputations  to  him,  with  tenders  of  congratulation. 
Cicero  himself  remarks,  that  Italy  brought  him.  back 
on  its  shoulders,  and  that  the  day  of  his  return  was 
worth  an  immortality. 

Cicero  was  now  restored  to  his  dignity,  but  not  to 
his  fortunes.  Restitution  had  been  decreed,  and  the 
sum  of  £22,000  was  finally  paid  him.  This  he  ac- 
cepted, though  it  was  scarcely  more  than  half  what 
he  had  actually  lost.  He  now  attached  himself  to  the 
cause  of  Pompey,  but  spent  several  years  with  little 
public  employment,  being  chiefly  occupied  with  his 
rhetorical  studies  and  the  business  of  an  advocate. 
The  turbulent  Clodius  was  at  last  slain  by  Milo,  and 
Cicero  was  thus  delivered  from  his  most  troublesome 
enemy. 

The  senate  now  conferred  upon  him  the  office  of 
pro-consul,  or  governor,  of  Cilicia,  in  Asia  Minor, 
whither  he  immediately  proceeded.  He  discharged 
the  duties  of  this  office  with  ability,  and,  on  his  return, 
was  decreed  a  triumph.  But  he  was  prevented  from 
enjoying  it  by  the  factious  opposition  of  his  enemies. 
On  his  return,  he  found  Rome  agitated  with  serious 
disturbances.  The  rupture  between  Caesar  and  Pom- 
pey had  taken  place,  and  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war 
seemed  to  be  impending  over  the  republic.  In  vain 
did  he  attempt  to  reconcile  the  fierce  and  haughty 
rivals. 

Caesar  advanced  upon  Rome,  and  Pompey  was 
forced  to  fly  with  the  consuls  and  the  senate.  Caesar 
had  met  Cicero  at  Formaie,  and  sought  to  gain  him 


126  CICERO. 

over  to  his  cause,  but  though  convinced  that  he  would 
prevail  in  the  coming  struggle,  he  felt  himself 
prompted,  by  a  sense  of  honor,  to  return  to  Pompey, 
who  had  served  him  so  effectually  during  his  exile. 
After  the  fatal  battle  of  Pharsalia  and  the  flight  of 
Pompey,  he  returned  to  Rome,  where  he  was  gra- 
ciously received  by  Caesar. 

\\  He  now  devoted  himself  to  literary  and  philosophi- 
cal pursuits,  and,  soon  after,  divorced  his  wife  Teren- 
tia,  an  act  which  has  justly  subjected  him  to  much  re- 
proach. It  is  true  that  she  was  a  woman  of  an  impe- 
rious and  turbulent  spirit,  expensive  and  negligent  in 
her  private  affairs,  busy  and  intriguing  in  public  mat- 
tei;^.  But  these  qualities  were  in  some  degree  com- 
pensated by  her  devotion  to  Cicero,  and  especially  by 
the  energy  with  which  she  had  sought  to  effect  his 
return  during  his  exile.  His  letters  to  her  at  this 
period  recognise  her  efforts  in  his  behalf,  and  are  full 
of  the  most  tender  expressions  of  affection  and  es- 
teem. 

It  must  be  remarked  that  the  nuptial  bond  was 
lightly  regarded  at  this  period  in  Rome,  and  divorces 
were  so  common  as  to  be  little  thought  of.  Terentia 
was  soon  after  married  to  Sallust,  the  historian,  by 
which  it  would  seem  that  her  separation  from  Cicero 
inflicted  upon  her  no  disgrace.  Cicero  would  per- 
haps have  been  little  blamed,  were  it  not  that  he 
was  soon  after  married  to  a  young  lady  named  Publi- 
lia,  of  whom  he  was  guardian,  and  who  had  been 
committed  to  his  care  by  her  father's  will.  She  had 
a  larsre  estate,  and  this  was  doubtless  Cicero's  induce- 
ment  to  the  match,  if  not  to  the  divorce  of  Terentia. 


CICERO.  127 

It  is  the  suspicion  of  such  motives,  in  these  transac- 
tions, that  has  sullied  the  fame  of  Cicero.  We  may- 
add  here,  in  respect  to  Terentia,  that  she  was  once  or 
twice  married  after  the  death  of  Sallust,  and  lived  to 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  three  years. 

Caesar,  having  established  himself  as  dictator,  Cicero 
was  induced  to  assent  to  his  government.  Accord- 
ingly, he  pronounced  a  famous  oration,  in  which  he 
mingled  as  much  counsel  as  panegyric  for  the  despot. 
He  was  rapidly  regaining  his  former  consideration, 
when  the  conspiracy  of  Brutus  and  his  associates  ter- 
minated the  career  of  the  ambitious  usurper.  Antony 
now  took  Caesar's  place,  and  while  he  was  prosecuting 
his  designs,  Cicero  returned  to  his  literary  occupa- 
tions. He  went  to  Greece  for  a  time,  but  soon  re- 
turned, and  pronounced  those  famous  orations  against 
Antony,  which  are  called  Philippics. 

Octavius,  known  as  Augustus  Csesar,  and  the 
nephew  of  Julius  Caesar,  united  his  interests  with 
those  of  Antony,  and  having  obtained  the  consulate, 
soon  gained  an  ascendency  over  the  senate.  Cicero, 
in  his  retirement  at  Tusculum,  saw  that  the  power 
having  passed  into  the  hands  of  desperate  men,  the 
liberty  of  Rome  was  no  more.  He  soon  heard  that 
his  own  name  was  included  among  those  of  the  pro- 
scribed. He  fled  immediately  to  Astura,  on  the  sea- 
coast,  where  he  found  a  vessel  waiting  for  him. 

He  here  embarked,  but  contrary  winds  drove  him 
back  to  the  shore.  At  the  earnest  entreaty  of  his 
slaves,  he  embarked  a  second  time,  but  returned  to 
await  his  fate  at  his  country  seat  near  Formaie,  de- 
claring,  "  I  will  die  in  my  country,  which  I  have 


128  *  CICERO. 

more  than  once  saved."  His  slaves,  seeing  the  neigh- 
borhood already  disturbed  by  the  soldiers  of  Antony, 
endeavored  to  convey  him  away  in  a  htter,  but  soon 
discovered  the  assassins,  who  had  been  sent  to  take 
his  life,  at  their  heels.  They  prepared  for  resistance, 
but  Cicero,  who  felt  that  death  was  unavoidable, 
bowed  his  head  before  Pompilius,  the  commander  of 
the  murderers,  who  had  once  been  saved  by  his  elo- 
quence, and  suffered  death  more  courageously  than 
he  had  borne  misfortune. 

Thus  died  Cicero,  and  with  him  the  liberties  of 
Rome.  The  dynasty  of  the  emperors  was  built  upon 
the  ruins  of  the  republic,  and,  continuing  for  five  cen- 
turies, was  finally  extinguished  in  the  gloom  of  the 
dark  ages.  Cicero  was  killed  on  the  7th  December, 
43  B.  C,  at  the  age  of  sixty-three.  His  head  and 
hands  were  severed  from  the  body,  by  his  murderers, 
and  carried  to  Antony,  who  caused  the  former  to  be 
placed  upon  the  rostra  in  the  forum,  between  the  two 
hands.  The  odium  of  these  barbarities  fell  chiefly 
upon  Antony,  yet  they  left  a  stain  of  perfidy  and 
ingratitude  upon  Augustus,  which  can  never  be  wiped 
away. 

In  his  person,  Cicero  was  tall  and  slender,  yet  his 
features  were  regular  and  manly.  He  mingled  great 
dignity  with  an  air  of  cheerfulness  and  serenity,  that 
inspired  both  affection  and  respect.  His  constitution 
was  naturally  weak,  but  his  prudent  habits  enabled 
him  to  support  all  the  fatigues  of  an  active  and  studi- 
ous life,  with  health  and  vigor.  In  dress,  he  avoided 
singularity,  and  was  only  remarkable  for  personal 
neatness  and  appropriateness  of  attire.     In  domestic 


CICERO.  129 

and  social  life,  his  demeanor  was  exceedingly  amia- 
ble. He  was  an  affectionate  parent,  a  zealous  friend, 
a  generous  master.  Yet  he  was  not  more  generous 
to  his  friends  than  placable  to  his  enemies.  It  was 
was  one  of  his  sayings,  delivered  in  a  public  assem- 
bly, that  "  his  enmities  were  mortal,  his  friendships 
immortal." 

The  moral  character  of  Cicero  was  not  blemished 
by  the  stain  of  any  habitual  vice.  He  was,  indeed,  the 
shining  pattern  of  virtue  in  an  age,  of  all  others,  the 
most  licentious  and  profligate.  His  great  soul  was 
superior  to  the  sordid  passions  which  engross  little 
minds — avarice,  envy  and  malice.  His  familiar  let- 
ters, in  which  he  pours  out  his  whole  heart,  are  free 
from  anything  base,  immodest  or  vengeful.  An  uni- 
form principle  of  benevolence,  justice,  love  of  his 
friends  and  his  country,  is  seen  to  flow  through  the 
whole,  inspiring  all  his  thoughts  and  words  and  ac- 
tions'. 

The  failings  of  Cicero  consisted  chiefly  in  his 
vanity  and  that  despondency  under  adverse  circum- 
stances, which  seemed  unworthy  of  his  character. 
With  these  abatements,  we  must  pronounce  him  a 
truly  great  and  good  man — the  glory  of  Rome,  an 
honor  to  human  nature.  His  works,  a  large  portion 
of  which  are  extant,  are  among  the  richest  treasures 
bequeathed  to  us  by  antiquity,  and  there  are  few 
minds  so  exalted,  even  with  the  advantages  of  our 
own  time,  as  not  to  find  instruction  in  his  pages. 

I 


*♦ 


CAIUS    JULIUS    CJISAR. 

This  celebrated  Roman,  famous  for  his  intrigues, 
his  generalship,  his  eloquence  an(^  his  talents,  was 
born  in  the  year  100  B.  C.  He  was  of  a  good  family, 
and  his  aunt  Julia  was  wife  of  Caius  Marius,  who 
had  been  consul.  We  know  little  of  him  in  his  youth, 
though  it  would  seam  that  he  early  attracted  attention 
by  his  abilities  and  ambition.  At  the  age  of  fifteen, 
he  left  his  father,  and  was  made  a  priest  in  the  temple 
of  Jupiter,  the  year  after.  At  the  age  of  seventeen, 
he  married  Cornelia,  a  daughter  of  Cinna.  *  By  this 
marriage,  and  through  his  aunt  Julia,  he  was  allied 
both  to  Marius  and  Cinna,  the  two  principal  opposers 
*  of  Sylla,  who  had  acquired  an  ascendency  in  Rome, 
and  exercised   his,  power   with   fearful   and  bloody 


C^SAR.  131 

tyranny.  Soon  after  his  marriage,  Caesar  became  an 
object  of  suspicion  to  the  despot ;  he  was  stripped  of 
his  office  as  priest  of  Jupiter,  his  wife's  dower  was 
confiscated,  and  he,  being  threatened  with  death, 
deemed  it  prudent  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 

He  wandered  up  and  down  the  country,  concealing 
himself  for  a  time  among  the  Sabines  ;  but  at  last  he 
escaped  by  sea,  and  went  to  Bithynia  in  Asia  Minor, 
and  sought  protection  of  king  Nicomedes.  His  stay 
at  this  place  was,  however,  short.  He  re-embarked, 
and  was  taken,  near  the  isle  of  Pharmacusa,  by  pirates, 
who  were  masters  of  that  sea,  and  blocked  up  all  the 
passages  with  a  number  of  galleys  and  other  vessels. 
They  asked  him  only  twenty  talents  for  his  ransom. 
He  laughed  at  their  demand,  as  the  consequence  of 
not  knowing  him,  and  promised  them  fifty  talents. 

To  raise  the  money  he  despatched  his  attendants 
to  different  cities,  and  in  the  meantime  remained,  with 
only  one  friend  and  two  servants,  among  these  people, 
who  considered  murder  a  trifle.  Caesar,  however, 
held  them  in  great  contempt,  and  used,  whenever  he 
went  to  sleep,  to  send  them  an  order  to  keep  silence. 
Thus  he  lived  among  them  thirty-eight  days,  as  if 
they  had  been  his  guards  rather  than  his  keepers. 

Perfectly  fearless  and  self-possessed,  he  joined  in 
their  diversions,  and  took  his  exercises  among  them. 
He  wrote  poems  and  orations,  and  rehearsed  them  to 
these  pirates ;  and  when  they  expressed  no  admira- 
tion, he  called  them  dunces  and  barbarians — nay, 
he  often  threatened  to  crucify  them.  They  were 
delighted  w4th  these  freedoms,  which  they  imputed 
to  his  frank  and  facetious  vein.     But  as  soon  as  the 


132  CjEsar. 

money  was  brought  for  his  ransom,  and  he  had  re- 
covered his  liberty,  he  manned  some  vessels  in  the 
port  of  Miletus,  in  order  to  attack  these  corsairs.  He 
found  them  still  lying  at  anchor  by  the  island,  took 
most  of  them,  together  with  the  money  he  had  paid 
them,  and  caused  them  to  be  imprisoned  at  Per- 
gamus. 

After  this  adventure,  Caesar  took  lessons  of  Appolo- 
nius  Molo,  of  Rhodes,  a  celebrated  teacher  of  rhetoric, 
who  had  been  the  instructor  of  Cicero.  He  here  dis- 
played great  talents,  especially  in  an  aptitude  for  elo- 
quence, in  which  he  afterwards  excelled.  After  this, 
he  served  under  different  generals  in  Asia,  and,  upon 
the  death  of  Sylla,  returned  to  Rome,  where  he  soon 
became  conspicuous  among  the  aspiring  politicians 
of  the  day. 

.].  Rome  was  at  this  time  a  republic,  in  which  there 
was  a  constant  struggle  for  ascendency  between  the 
aristocracy  and  the  democracy — between  the  privi- 
leged few  and  the  people.  Sylla  had  placed  the 
former  on  a  firm  footing  ;  for  a  time,  therefore,  Caesar, 
who  courted  the  people,  took  no  open  part,  but  looked 
calmly  on,  waiting  and  watching  for  his  opportunity. 
He,  however,  seized  every  occasion  to  please  and 
flatter  the  people ;  he  gave  expensive  entertainments, 
to  which  they  were  invited ;  he  attached  to  his  person 
the  talented  and  enterprising  young  men ;  he  dis- 
tributed presents,  paid  compliments,  and  said  a  thou- 
sand pleasant  things,  calculated  to  flatter  those  whose 
favor  he  desired.  He  also  made  public  speeches  on 
various  occasions,  in  all  of  which  he  avowed  senti- 
ments which  gratified  the  plebeians.     Thus  beginning 


C-ESAR.  133 

afar  off  and  steadily  approaching  his  object,  he  was 
ere  long  in  a  situation  to  realize  it.  Cato,  who  had 
watched  him  carefully,  discovered  his  dangerous  am- 
bition, but  he  could  not  prevent  the  success  of  his 
schemes. 

At  the  age  of  thirty-one,  he  was  chosen  by  the  peo- 
ple, as  one  of  the  military  tribunes,  an  office  which 
gave  him  the  command  of  a  legion,  or  division  in  the 
army.  The  year  following,  he  was  quaestor,  or 
receiver  of  public  moneys  in  Spain ;  and  in  the  year 
68,  having  returned  to  Rome,  he  was  chosen  edile — 
an  office  which  gave  him  charge  of  the  public  build- 
ings. 

In  this  situation,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  indulge 
his  taste  for  magnificence  and  display;  at  the  same 
time,  he  gratified  the  people.  He  beautified  the  city 
with  public  edifices  and  gave  splendid  exhibitions  of 
wild  beasts  and  gladiators. 

He  was  now  thirty-five  years  old,  and  being  desi- 
rous of  military  glory,  he  sought  a  command  in 
Egypt.  He  offered  himself  as  a  candidate — but  failed. 
The  next  year  he  took  his  measures  more  carefully. 
The  corruption  of  the  voters  of  Rome,  at  that  time, 
was  such  as  to  excite  our  disgust.  On  the  day  of 
election,  there  were  stalls,  openly  kept,  where  the 
votes  of  the  freemen  were  bought,  with  as  little  shame, 
as  if  they  had  been  common  merchandise.  We  hardly 
know  which  most  to  despise,  the  crafty  leaders,  who 
thus  corrupted  the  people,  or  the  venal  voters,  who 
abused  and  degraded  the  dearest  of  privileges. 

Though  Caesar  was  from  the  beginning  a  professed 
champion  of  the  democracy,  yet  the  manner  in  which 


134  CJESAR. 

he  treated  those  whose  support  he  sought,  showed 
that  his  designs  were  selfish ;  that  he  wished  to  make 
the  people  instruments  of  his  ambition.  A  man  who 
will  flatter  the  mass ;  use  false,  yet  captivating  argu- 
ments with  them ;  appeal  to  their  prejudices ;  fall  in 
with  their  currents  of  feeling  and  opinion,  even 
though  they  may  be  wrong,  may  profess  democracy, 
but  he  is  at  heart  an  aristocrat :  he  has  no  true  love 
for  the  people ;  no  confidence  in  them ;  he  really  de- 
spises them,  and  looks  upon  them  but  as  the  despicable 
tools  of  his  ambition.  Such  was  Csesar,  and  such  is 
always  the  popular  demagogue.  While  nothing  is 
more  noble  than  a  true  democrat — a  true  well-wisher 
of  the  people — and  one  who  honestly  seeks  to  vindi- 
cate their  rights,  enlighten  their  minds,  and  elevate 
them  in  the  scale  of  society;  so  nothing  is  more 
base  than  a  selfish  desire  to  govern  them,  hidden  be- 
neath the  cloak  of  pretended  democracy. 

The  measures  of  Caesar  were  now  so  open,  and  his 
real  character  so  obvious,  that  we  should  wonder  at 
his  success  with  the  people,  did  we  not  know  the 
power  which  flattery  exerts  over  all  mankind,  and 
that  when  a  man  of  rank  and  talents  becomes  a  dema- 
gogue, he  is  usually  more  successful  than  other  men. 
It  was  so,  at  least,  with  Caesar.  He  courted  the 
populace  on  all  occasions ;  he  distributed  money  with 
a  lavish  hand,  particularly  among  the  poorer  voters. 

After-  many  intrigues,  he  obtained  the  office  of 
praetor,  at  the  end  of  a  sharply  contested  election. 
This  office  was  one  of  high  dignity  and  trust.  The 
praetor  administered  justice,  protected  the  rights  of 
widows  and   orphans — ^presided   at   public  festivals, 


CiESAR.  - 135 


was  president  of  the  senate,  in  the  absence  t)f  the 
consul,  and  assembled  or  prorogued  the  senate  at  his 
pleasure.  He  also  exhibited  shows  to  the  people,  and 
in  the  festivals  of  Bona  Dea,  w^here  none  but  women 
were  admitted,  his  wife  presided. 

In  obtaining  this  office,  Caesar  achieved  a  great  tri- 
umph. He  also  increased  his  power,  and  reached  a 
situation  which  enabled  him  still  more  to  flatter  the 
people.  An  event,  however,  occurred  about  this 
time,  which  gave  him  great  annoyance.  During  the 
ceremonies  in  honor  of  the  Bona  Dea,  at  his  house,  a 
profligate  person,  named  Clodius,  disguised  as  a  wo- 
man, gained  access  to  the  festivities.  This  caused  a 
great  deal  of  scandal,  and  Caesar  divorced  his  wife, 
Pompeia,  whom  he  had  married  after  the  death  of 
Cornelia. 

In  the  year  63  B.  C,  a  conspiracy,  which  had  for 
its  object  the  subversion  of  the  Roman  government, 
was  detected  by  Cicero,  the  orator,  then  consul.  It 
was  headed  by  Cataline,  a  Roman  nobleman  of  dis- 
solute habits,  whose  life  had  been  stained  with  many 
crimes.  His  accomplices  were  men  of  similar  char- 
acter, who  took  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  cause,  which 
they  sealed  by  drinking  human  blood.  After  the 
disclosure  of  the  plot,  Cataline  braved  the  senate  for 
a  time,  but  five  of  his  associates  being  seized,  he  fled 
to  Gaul,  where,  having  raised  some  troops,  he  was 
attacked,  and  fell,  bravely  fighting  to  the  last. 

When  the  trial  of  the  five  accomplices  came  on  in 
the  Roman  senate,  there  was  but  a  single  person  who 
dared  to  oppose  their  execution,  and  this  was  Caesar. 
His  courage,  moral   or  physical,  never  failed  him. 


136  clsAR. 

In  policy  and  war,  he  often  undertook  what  might 
seem  the  most  desperate  schemes,  yet  the  event  usu- 
ally bore  out  his  judgment,  or  his  skill  and  energy 
generally  ensured  success.  In  the  present  case,  he 
failed ;  though  his  speech  in  the  senate  had  a  won- 
derful effect.  Even  Cicero  wavered.  As  that  speech 
is  handed  down  by  Sallust,  it  is  a  masterly  perform- 
ance. It  gave  Caesar  a  high  place  as  an  orator,  he 
beincf  now  reofarded  as  second  to  Cicero  alone. 
Though  he  did  not  obtain  his  direct  object  respecting 
the  conspirators,  and  was  driven  from  his  office  by  the 
aristocratic  faction,  he  gained  more  than  he  lost,  by 
increased  popularity  with  the  plebeians. 

In  the  year  60  B.  C,  when  the  time  was  approach- 
ing for  the  choice  of  consuls,  Caesar  being  a  candidate, 
the  aristocratic  faction  saw  that  they  could  not  defeat 
his  election ;  they  therefore  thought  to  check  him,  by 
associating  with  him  Bibulus,  one  of  their  own  party. 
When  the  election  took  place,  Caesar  and  Bibulus 
were  chosen.  The  latter  was  rather  a  weak  man, 
and  offered  no  effectual  obstacle  to  Caesar's  schemes. 
On  one  occasion,  he  determined  to  check  his  colleague, 
and  for  this  purpose,  resorted  to  the  use  of  an  extreme 
power,  vested,  however,  in  his  hands.  It  was  the 
custom,  before  any  public  business,  to  consult  the 
augurs.  These  were  officers  of  state,  who  were  sup- 
posed to  foretell  future  events. 

The  augur  sat  upon  a  high  tower,  where  he  stud- 
ied the  heavens,  and  particularly  noticed  comets, 
thunder  and  lightning,  rain  and  tempest.  The  chirp- 
ing or  flying  of  birds — the  sudden  crossing  of  the 
path  by  quadrupeds — accidents,  such  as  spilling  salt, 


hearing  strange  noises,  sneezing,  stumbling/l^^T^fprj  \^J^  \ 
all  esteemed  ominous,  and  were  the  means  by>4Helu  ,-  " 
the  soothsayers  pretended  to  unravel  the  fate  of  men 
and  of  nations.  When  these  gave  an  unfavorable 
report,  a  consul  could  stop  public  business,  and  even 
break  up  the  sittings  of  the  senate.  Bibulus  resorted 
to  the  use  of  this  power,  and  not  only  declared  that 
the  augurs  were  unfavorable,  but  that  they  would  be 
so  all  the  year !  This  extravagant  stretch  of  author- 
ity was  turned  to  ridicule  by  Caesar  and  his  friends,, 
and  the  baffled  consul,  in  disgust  and  shame,  shut 
himself  up  in  his  own  house.  Coesar  was  now,  in 
fact,  the  sole  consul  of  Rome. 

/  Pompey  the  Great  was  at  this  period  in  the  full 
flush  of  his  fame.  His  military  achievements  had 
been  of  the  most  splendid  character.  He  was,  there- 
fore, a  man  of  the  highest  consideration,  and  even 
superior  to  Caesar  in  standing.  The  latter,  by  a  series 
of  intrigues,  gained  his  favor,  and  these  two,  rivals  at 
heart,  both  yearning  for  supreme  authority  in  Rome, 
entered  into  a  political  alliance,  which  they  cemented 
by  the  marriage  of  Julia,  Caesar's  daughter,  to  Pom- 
pey. It  mattered  not,  among  these  unscrupulous  pol- 
iticians, that  Julia  had  long  been  betrothed  to  Marcus 
Brutus.  Caesar,  at  this  time,  also  took  a  wife,  named 
Calpurnia,  daughter  of  Piso — a  political  match,  which 
greatly  enlarged  his  power.  Three  great  men  were 
now  at  the  head  of  affairs  in  Rome — Caesar,  Pompey, 
and  Crassus — and  this  union  is  called  in  history  the 
First  Triumvirate. 

Csesar  was,  however,  the  master  as  well  of  the 
senate  as  of  the  people.     By  his  influence,  an  agra- 


138  CJESAR. 

rian  law  was  passed,  for  the  division  of  some  public 
lands  in  Campania,  among  the  poorer  citizens,  which 
he  carried  by  intimidation.  Everything  gave  way 
before  him ;  even  Cicero,  who  was  in  his  way,  was 
banished.  Caesar's  desire  was  now  to  have  an  army 
at  his  command  :  this  he  obtained,  being  appointed  to 
the  charge  of  the  provinces  of  Gaul,  on  both  sides  of 
the  Alps,  for  five  years. 

From  this  time,  the  history  of  Rome  presents  a 
striking  parallel  to  that  of  the  republic  of  France 
during  Bonaparte's  first  campaigns  in  Italy.  In  both 
cases  we  see  a  weak  republic,  torn  by  contending  fac- 
tions, and  rather  feeding  discontent  than  seeking 
tranquillity.  In  both  cases  we  see  vast  provinces  of 
the  distracted  republic  occupied  by  a  general  of  unlim- 
ited powers — a  man  of  superior  genius,  desperate 
resolves,  and  fearful  cruelty — a  man,  who,  under  the 
show  of  democratic  principles  and  a  love  of  the  peo- 
ple, gains  a  complete  ascendency  over  the  soldiers, 
that  he  may  lead  them  on  to  victory,  bloodshed,  plun- 
der, and  despotism ! 

We  shall  not  follow  Caesar  in  the  details  of  his 
victorious  career.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that,  in  nine 
campaigns,  he  waged  war  against  the  numerous  tribes 
which  occupied  the  present  territory  of  France,  Brit- 
ain, Switzerland,  and  Germany.  Some  of  these  were 
warlike  and  populous  nations,  and  frequently  brought 
into  the  field  immense  armies  of  fierce  and  formidable 
soldiery.  Though  often  pushed  to  extremity,  by  a 
series  of  splendid  achievements,  Caesar  reduced  them 
all  to  subjection  at  last.  During  this  period,  it  is  said 
that  he  fought  nearly  a  thousand  battles,  captured 


^- 


C^SAR.  139 

eight  hundred  towns,  slew  a  million  of  men,  and 
reduced  to  captivity  as  many  more  !  If  the  warrior's 
glory  is  estimated  by  the  blood  he  sheds,  the  life  he 
extinguishes,  the  liberty  he  destroys — Caesar's  crown 
must  be  one  of  surpassing  splendor. 

Though  Caesar  did  not  visit  Rome  during  this  long 
period,  he  was  by  no  means  ignorant  of  what  was 
transpiring  there.  It  was  his  custom  to  spend  his 
winters  in  Cisalpine  Gaul,  that  is,  on  the  southern  side 
of  the  Alps,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
Rome.  Here  he  was  able  to  keep  up  a  correspondence 
with  his  friends,  and  to  mingle  in  all  the  intrigues 
that  agitated  the  mighty  city — the  heart  of  the  empire. 

Pompey  had  at  length  broken  through  the  alliance 
with  Caesar,  and  set  up  for  supreme  authority.  It 
was  now  understood  that  Caesar  had  similar  views, 
and  Rome  began  to  look  with  fear  and  trembling  upon 
the  issue  that  was  approaching  between  these  power- 
ful rivals.  Pompey  succeeded  in  getting  certain  acts 
ipassed  by  the  senate,  requiring  Caesar  to  quit  his 
army,  and  come  to  Rome.  The  latter  saw  danger 
in  this,  and  while  he  determined  to  visit  Rome,  he 
resolved  that  his  army  should  accompany  him.  The 
southern  boundary  of  his  provinces  was  a  small 
stream,  called  the  Rubicon.  When  Caesar  came  to 
this,  he  hesitated.  To  cross  it  with  his  troops,  was  a 
declaration  of  war.  Staggered  with  the  greatness  of 
the  attempt,  he  stopped  to  weigh  with  himself  its  evils 
and  advantages ;  and,  as  he  stood  revolving  in  his  own 
mind  the  arguments  on  both  sides,  he  seemed  to  waver 
in  his  opinion.  In  a  state  of  doubt,  he  conferred 
with  such  of  his  friends  as  were  by,  enumerating  the 


140  CiESAR. 

calamities  which  the  passage  of  that  river  would  bring 
upon  the  world,  and  the  reflections  that  might  be 
made  upon  it  by  posterity.  At  last,  upon  some  sud- 
den impulse,  bidding  adieu  to  his  reasonings,  and 
plunging  into  the  abyss  of  futurity — in  the  words  of 
those  who  embark  in  doubtful  and  arduous  enterprises 
— ^he  cried  out,  "  The  die  is  cast ;"  and  immediately 
passed  the  river.  // 

'  He  now  travelled  with  the  utmost  rapidity,  having 
but  about  three  hundred  horse  and  five  thousand  foot. 
The  consternation  of  the  whole  country  was  evinced 
by  the  movements  visible  on  all  hands — not  individu- 
als, only,  were  seen  wandering  about,  but  whole  cities 
were  broken  up,  the  inhabitants  seeking  safety  in 
flight.  Pompey  himself,  with  his  friends,  fled  from 
Rome,  and  Caesar  entered  the  city,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  the  government  without  opposition. 

A  senate  was  hastily  assembled,  and  the  forms  of 
law  observed,  though  in  obedience  to  Caesar's  will. 
He  was  declared  dictator,  and  then  marched  to  Brun- 
dusium,  whither  Pompey  had  fled.  After  many  skir- 
mishes, the  two  armies  met  on  the  plains  of  Pharsalia, 
a  town  of  Thessaly,  in  Greece,  and  a  decisive  and 
bloody  engagement  took  place.  Pompey  was  defeated, 
and,  wandering  like  a  distracted  man,  came  at  last 
to  Egypt,  where  he  was  treacherously  murdered. 
Caesar  followed,  as  the  remorseless  eagle  pursues  its 
prey,  but  finding  his  rival  slain,  he  repaired  in  tri- 
umph to  Rome.  These  events  occurred  in  the  year 
48  B.  C. 

After  various  pioceedings,  Caesar  was  elected  con- 
"sul  for  ten  years,  and  declared  dictator  for  life.     The 


C-ESAR.  141 

mask  was  now  thrown  off — the  despot  stood  disclosed. 
Forty  senators,  incensed  at  his  subversion  of  the  con- 
stitution of  Rome,  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to  take 
his  life,  and,  on  the  18th  of  March,  B.  C.  44,  they 
stabbed  him,  as  he  was  entering  the  senate  chamber. 
Proud  even  in  death,  Caesar  muffled  his  face  in  his 
cloak  as  he  fell,  that  his  expiring  agonies  might  not 
be  witnessed. 

Thus  lived  and  thus  died,  Julius  Caesar.  His  tal- 
ents were  only  equalled  by  his  ambition.  If  he  sought 
glory,  it  was  often  by  worthy  means — by  valuable 
improvements,  and  real  benefits.  Yet  he  hesitated 
not  to  trample  upon  life,  principles,  bonds,  rights — 
upon  liberty — his  country — everything  that  stood  in 
the  way  of  his  towering  wishes. 

He  left  behind  him  an  account  of  his  battles,  writ- 
ten from  day  to  day,  as  events  occurred.  These  are 
called  Commentaries,  and  furnish  a  fund  of  authentic 
narrative  for  history,  beside  being  admired  for  their 
elegance  of  style.  It  was  after  a  victory  over  Phar- 
naces,  king  of  Pontus,  in  Asia  Minor,  that  he  used 
the  remarkable  words,  veni,  vidi,  vinci — "  I  came,  I 
saw,  I  conquered."  They  well  express  the  celerity 
and  decision  of  his  movements.  In  private  affairs  he 
was  extravagant  of  money;  his  debts  at  one  time 
amounted  to  eight  hundred  talents — almost  a  million  of 
dollars.  These  were  paid  by  his  friends.  In  public 
concerns  he  did  not  appear  greedy  of  wealth.  As  an 
evidence  of  the  activity  and  energy  of  his  faculties, 
it  was  said  that  at  the  same  time  he  could  employ 
his  ear  to  listen,  his  eye  to  read,  his  hand  to  write, 
and  his  mind  to  dictate.    His  disposition  led  him  irre- 


142  C-ESAR. 

sistibly  to  seek  dominion ;  in  battle,  he  must  be  a  con- 
queror ;  in  a  republic,  he  must  be  the  master.  This 
leading  feature  in  his  character  is  well  illustrated,  in 
his  saying  to  the  inhabitants  of  a  village,  "  I  would 
rather  be  first  here,  than  second  in  Rome."  His  char- 
acter is  delineated  by  an  eminent  writer,  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms : — 

*'  Such  was  the  affection  of  his  soldiers,  and  their 
attachment  to  his  person,  that  they,  who,  under  other 
commanders,  were  nothing  above  the  common  rate  of 
men,  became  invincible  when  Caesar's  glory  was  con- 
cerned, and  met  the  most  dreadful  dangers  with  a 
courage  which  nothing  could  resist. 

"  This  courage,  and  this  great  ambition,  were  cul- 
tivated and  cherished,  in  the  first  place,  by  the  gen- 
erous manner  in  which  Csesar  rewarded  his  troops, 
and  the  honors  which  he  paid  them.  His  whole  con- 
duct showed  that  he  did  not  accumulate  riches  to 
minister  to  luxury,  or  to  serve  any  pleasures  of  his 
own,  but  that  he  laid  them  up  in  a  common  stock,  as 
prizes  to  be  obtained  by  distinguished  valor ;  and  that 
he  considered  himself  no  farther  rich,  than  as  he  was 
in  a  condition  to  do  justice  to  the  merit  of  his  soldiers. 
Another  thing  that  coatributed  to  make  them  invinci- 
ble, was  their  seeing  Csesar  always  take  his  share  in 
the  danger,  and  never  desire  any  exemption  from 
labor  and  fatigue. 

*'  As  for  his  exposing  his  person  to  danger,  they 
were  not  surprised  at  it,  because  they  knew  his  pas- 
sion for  glory;  but  they  were  astonished  at  his  pa- 
tience under  toil,  so  far,  in  all  appearance,  above  his 
bodily  powers ;   for  he  was  of  a  slender  make,  fair, 


CiESAR.  143 

of  a  delicate  constitution,  and  subject  to  violent  head- 
aches, and  epileptic  fits.  He  had  the  first  attack  of 
the  falling  sickness  at  Corduba.  He  did  not,  however, 
make  these  disorders  a  pretence  for  indulging  himself. 
On  the  contrary,  he  sought  in  war  a  remedy  for  his 
infirmities,  endeavoring  to  strengthen  his  constitution 
by  long  marches,  by  simple  diet,  by  seldom  coming 
under  cover.  Thus  he  contended  against  his  distem- 
per, and  fortified  himself  against  its  attacks. 

"  When  he  slept,  it  was  commonly  upon  a  march, 
either  in  a  chariot  or  a  litter,  that  rest  might  be  no 
hindrance  to  business.  In  the  daytime  he  visited  the 
castles,  cities,  and  fortified  camps,  with  a  servant  at  his 
side,  and  with  a  soldier  behind,  who  carried  his  sword. 

"  As  a  warrior  and  a  general,  we  behold  him  not 
in  the  least  inferior  to  the  greatest  and  most  admired 
commander  the  world  ever  produced ;  for,  whether 
we  compare  him  with  the  Fabii,  the  Scipios,  the  Me- 
telli — with  the  generals  of  his  own  time,  or  those  who 
flourished  a  little  before  him — with  Sylla,  Marius,  the 
two  LucuUi,  or  with  Pompey  himself,  whose  fame  in 
every  military  excellence,  reached  the  skies,  Caesar's 
achievements  bear  away  the  palm.  One  he  surpassed 
in  the  difficulty  of  the  scene  of  action  ;  another  in  the 
extent  of  the  countries  he  subdued ;  this,  in  the  num- 
ber and  strength  of  the  enemies  he  overcame ;  that, 
in  the  savage  manners  and  treacherous  dispositions 
of  the  people  he  humanized ;  one,  in  mildness  and 
clemency  to  his  prisoners ;  another,  in  bounty  and 
munificence  to  his  troops ;  and  all,  in  the  number  of 
battles  that  he  won,  and  enemies  that  he  killed. 
In  less  than  ten  years'  war  in  Gaul,  he  took  eight 


144 


CJESAR. 


hundred  cities  by  assault,  conquered  three  hundred 
nations,  and  fought  pitched  battles,  at  different  times, 
with  three  millions  of  men,  one  million  of  which  he 
cut  in  pieces,  and  made  another  million  prisoners." 

Such  was  Caesar,  one  of  the  greatest,  yet  worst  of 
men.  It  appears  that  after  his  death  he  was  enrolled 
among  the  gods.  It  is  evident  that  a  people  who 
looked  upon  such  a  being  as  divine,  must  have  wor- 
shipped power,  and  not  virtue ;  and  that  what  we 
call  vice  and  crime,  were,  in  their  view,  compatible 
with  divinity. 


HANNIBAL. 


This  great  man,  a  native  of  Carthage,  and  son  of 
Hamilcar  Barcas,  was  born  247  B.  C.  At  this 
period,  Rome  and  Carthage  were  rival  powers, 
and  both  seated  upon  the  borders  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean Sea.  Rome  had  been  in  existence  about  five 
hundred  years,  and  had  already  extended  her  con- 
quests over  Italy  and  a  portion  of  Spain.  She  had 
not  yet  crossed  the  Alps,  to  conquer  the  more  north- 
ern Gauls  or  Goths,  but  she  was  rapidly  advancing  in 
power ;  and,  about  a  century  after,  Greece  and  Asia 
Minor  fell  before  her.     Already  her  proud  eagle  be- 


146  HANNIBAL. 

gan  to  spread  his  wing,  and  whet  his  beak  for  con- 
quest and  slaughter. 

Rome  was  a  nation  of  soldiers ;  and,  paying  little 
respect  to  commerce,  manufactures  and  productive 
industry,  she  sought  to  enrich  herself  by  robbing 
other  countries — thus  building  herself  up  by  the  very 
means  which  the  Goths  and  Vandals  employed,  seven 
hundred  years  after,  for  her  destruction.  Carthage 
was,  in  most  respects,  the  opposite  of  Rome  ;  her  cit- 
izens were  chiefly  devoted  to  commerce  and  manu- 
factures. The  Mediterranean  was  dotted  over  with 
her  vessels,  and  she  had  numerous  colonies  in  Spain 
and  along  the  coasts  of  Africa.    ^ 

The  city  of  Rome  was  the  centre  of  the  republic 
and  the  seat  of  government.  Here  all  the  laws  were 
enacted ;  here  all  the  military  movements  and  other 
affairs  of  state  were  decided  upon.  The  city  was  at 
this  time  nearly  twenty  miles  in  circuit,  and  defended 
by  a  triple  range  of  walls.  The  number  of  its  inhab- 
itants was  several  millions. 

Carthage  was  also  a  vast  city,  situated  in  Africa, 
about  four  hundred  miles  south-west  of  Rome,  the 
Mediterranean  Sea  lying  between  them.  It  originated 
with  a  small  colony  of  people  from  Tyre,  a  maritime 
city  in  Syria,  about  a  hundred  years  before  Rome  was 
founded  by  Romulus.  It  increased  rapidly,  and  be- 
came a  flourishing  place.  The  city  exercised  dominion 
over  the  whole  country  around.  Its  government  was 
a  mixture  of  aristocracy  and  democracy ;  the  chief 
men  ruling  on  all  ordinary  occasions,  but  sometimes 
consulting  the  people. 

The  Carthaginians  were  an  industrious  nation  and 


HANNIBAL.  147 

appear  to  have  had  no  taste  or  leisure  for  the  gladiator 
fights,  the  shows  of  wild  beasts,  the  theatrical  exhibi- 
tions and  other  amusements,  that  excited  such  deep 
interest* among  the  idle  and  dissipated  Romans.  They 
were,  in  many  respects,  exemplary  in  their  morals — 
even  abstinence  from  wine  being  required  of  the 
magistrates  while  in  office.  Their  religion,  however, 
was  a  gloomy  superstition,  and  their  punishments 
were  cruel.  They  even  sacrificed  children  to  their 
^gods,  in  the  earlier  periods  of  their  history. 

Though  chiefly  addicted  to  commerce,  the  Cartha- 
ginians paid  great  attention  to  agriculture.  The  rich 
men  laid  out  their  surplus  money  in  cultivating  the 
lands ;  and  in  the  time  of  Hannibal,  the  whole  extent 
of  country  around  Carthage,  which  was  the  territory 
now  called  Tunis,  was  covered  with  vast  herds  of  the 
finest  cattle,  fields  waving  with  corn,  vineyards  and 
olive  grounds.  There  were  a  multitude  of  small  vil- 
lages scattered  over  the  country ;  near  to  the  great 
city,  the  whole  landscape  was  studded  with  the  splen- 
did villas  of  the  rich  citizens.  To  such  a  pitch  was 
the  art  of  agriculture  carried » that  one  Mago  wrote 
twenty-eight  books  upon  the  subject.  These  were 
carried  to  Rome,  after  the  conquest  of  Carthage,  and 
greatly  increased  the  knowledge  and  skill  of  the  Ro- 
mans, in  the  science  of  husbandry. 

It  was  at  a  period  when  these  two  great  powers 
had  already  extended  themselves  so  far  as  to  come  in 
frequent  collision,  that  Hannibal  was  born.  His  father 
was  a  general,  who  had  served  in  Spain  and  fought 
against  the  Romans  in  the  first  Punic  war.  His  mind 
was  filled  with  hatred  of  that  nation ;  and  while  Han- 


148  HANNIBAL. 

nibal  was  yet  a  boy  of  nine  years  old,  and  about  to 
accompany  his  father  in  his  Spanish  campaigns,  he 
caused  him  to  kneel  before  the  altar,  and  swear  eter- 
nal hatred  to  the  Romans.  • 

Asdrubal,  the  brother  of  Hamilcar,  succeeded,  at 
the  death  of  the  latter,  to  the  command  of  the  Car- 
thaginian army  in  Spain  ;  at  his  death,  Hannibal,  now 
twenty-one  years  old,  was  made  general  of  the  whole 
army,  as  well  by  the  acclamations  of  the  soldiers,  as 
the  decree  of  the  Carthaginian  senate.  He  imme-, 
diately  marched  against  various  barbarous  tribes  in 
Spain,  yet  unsubdued,  and  quickly  reduced  them  to 
submission. 

During  the  first  Punic  war,  Carthage  had  lost  her 
finest  colonies — the  island  of  Sicily,  as  well  as  the 
Lipari  isles — all  of  which  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  Refine.  She  had  now  recovered  from  the  losses 
of  that  war,  and  Hannibal  determined  to  revenge  the 
injuries  Rome  had  inflicted  upon  his  country.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  laid  siege  to  Saguntum,  in  Spain,  a 
large  city  subject  to  Rome,  and  situated  on  the  Medi- 
terranean, near  the  present  town  of  Valencia.  Faith- 
ful to  their  alliance,  and  expecting  succors  from  Rome, 
the  people  made  the  most  determined  resistance  for 
eight  months.  They  were  at  last  reduced  to  such 
fearful  extremity  for  food,  that  they  killed  their  infant 
children  and  fed  upon  their  blood  and  flesh.  Filled 
with  a  horrid  despair,  they  finally  erected  an  immense 
pile  of  wood,  and  setting  it  on  fire,  the  men  first  hurled 
their  women,  slaves  and  treasures  into  the  blaze,  and 
then  plunged  into  it  themselves.  Hannibal  now  en- 
tered the  city,  but,  instead  of  finding  rich  spoils,  he 


HANNIBAL.  149 

only  witnessed  a  heap  of  ashes.  The  solitude  of  that 
scene  might  have  touched  even  a  warrior's  heart. 
The  present  town  of  Murviedo,  the  site  of  the  an- 
cient Saguntum  and  the  witness  of  these  horrid 
scenes,  still  abounds  in  remains  of  Roman  architec- 
ture. 

The  second  Punic  war  was  begun  by  these  pro- 
ceedings against  Saguntum.  Hannibal,  who  had 
determined  upon  the  invasion  of  Italy,  spent  the  win- 
ter in  making  his  preparations.  Leaving  a  large 
force  in  Africa,  and  also  in  Spain,  to  defend  these 
points,  he  set  out,  in  the  spring  of  the  year  218,  with 
eighty  thousand  foot  and  twelve  thousand  horse,  to 
fulfil  his  project. 

His  course  lay  along  the  Mediterranean ;  the  whole 
distance  to  Rome  being  about  one  thousand  miles  by 
the  land  route  which  he  contemplated.  When  he  had 
traversed  Spain,  he  came  to  the  Pyrenees,  a  range 
of  mountains  separating  that  country  from  Gaul,  now 
France.  Here  he  was  attacked  by  wild  tribes  of 
brave  barbarians,  but  he  easily  dro\%  them  back.  He 
crossed  the  Pyrenees,  traversed  Gaul,  and  came  at 
last  to  the  Alps,  which  threw  up  their  frowning  battle- 
ments, interposing  a  formidable  obstacle  between  him 
and  the  object  of  his  expedition.  No  warrior  had 
then  crossed  these  snowy  peaks  with  such  an  army ; 
and  none  but  a  man  of  that  degree  of  resolution  and 
self-reliance  which  will  not  be  baffled,  would  have 
hazarded  the  fearful  enterprise.  Napoleon  accom- 
plished the  task,  two  thousand  years  afterwards,  but 
with  infinitely  greater  facilities. 

Hannibal,  after  a  march  of  five  months,  descended 


150  HANNIBAL. 

the  southern  slopes  of  the  Alps,  and  poured  do^vn 
upon  the  soft  and  smiling  plains  of  Italy.  The  north- 
ern portion,  called  Cisalpine  Gaul,  was  peopled  with 
Gothic  tribes,  long  settled  in  the  country.  They  were 
desirous,  however,  of  throwing  off  the  Roman  yoke, 
and  therefore  favored  the  Carthaginian  cause.  Han- 
nibal, whose  army  had  been  greatly  reduced  in  his 
march,  especially  in  crossing  the  Alps,  remained 
among  some  of  these  people  for  a  time,  to  recruit, 
and  then  proceeded  southward  toward  Rome. 

On  the  banks  of  the  river  Tessino  he  was  met  by 
a  Roman  army  despatched  against  him  ;  but,  after  a 
bloody  conflict,  he  was  victorious.  In  a  few  weeks 
he  again  encountered  the  Romans,  and  again  he  tri- 
umphed. Thus,  the  whole  of  Cisalpine  Gaul  fell 
into  his  hands,  and  these  people,  relieved  from  the 
presence  of  the  Roman  army,  aided  him  freely  with 
every  kind  of  supplies. 
^J-/  Rome  now  presented  a  scene  of  the  greatest  activ- 

ity. She  was  not  yet  softened  by  luxuries,  or  cor- 
rupted by  indulgehce ;  she  did  not,  therefore,  yield  to 
fear,  as  in  after  days,  when  the  wild  leaders  of  the 
north  poured  down  from  the  Alps,  like  an  avalanche. 
She  was  alarmed,  but  yet  she  met  the  emergency 
with  courage  and  resolution.  Every  artisan  in  the 
city  was  busy  in  preparation ;  the  senate  were  revolv- 
ing deep  schemes ;  generals  held  councils  of  war ; 
soldiers  were  recruited  and  trained ;  the  people  ran 
to  and  fro  in  the  streets,  telling  the  last  news,  and 
recounting  some  marvellous  legend  of  the  Carthagi- 
nians and  their  dreaded  leader.  All  was  bustle  and 
preparation. 


HANNIBAL.  151 

When  the  spring  of  the  year  217  B.  C.  arrived, 
two  Roman  armies  took  the  field ;  one  under  the  con- 
sul Flaminius,  and  the  other  under  the  consul  Ser- 
vilius.  Hannibal  first  marched  against  Flaminius, 
but  in  passing  the  swamps  of  the  river  Arno,  his  army 
suffered  greatly,  and  he  himself  lost  one  of  his  eyes. 
Soon  after  this,  Flaminius,  who  was  a  rash  and 
headstrong  man,  came  up  with  him  on  the  banks  of 
the  lake  Trasimenus,  and  gave  the  Carthaginians  bat- 
tle. Here,  again,  the  genius  of  Hannibal  triumphed. 
The  conflict  was  dreadful,  and  the  water  of  the  lake 
where  the  armies  met,  was  red  with  blood.  But  the 
Romans  were  totally  defeated. 

After  this  event,  a  famous  general,  Quintius  Fabius 
Maximus,  was  appointed  dictator  of  Rome,  and,  under 
his  direction,  a  new  policy  was  adopted.  Instead  of 
sending  armies  to  act  offensively  against  Hannibal  at 
a  distance,  the  defensive  system  of  warfare  was  rigidly 
observed.  This  prudent  course,  adopted  by  Fabius, 
has  given  a  signification  to  his  name ;  the  Fabian 
policy  being  a  term  which  is  used  as  synonymous 
with  'prudent  policy.  It  is  thought  that  Washington, 
in  our  revolutionary  war,  imitated  this  great  Roman 
general. 

But  the  successes  of  Hannibal  and  the  disasters  of 
Rome,  had  not  yet  ended.  In  the  year  216,  another 
battle  was  determined  upon,  and  Hannibal  met  the 
enemy  at  Cannge,  near  the  present  city  of  Naples. 
Here,  again,  the  Romans  were  defeated  with  dreadful 
slaughter.  Not  less  than  forty  thousand  of  their  sol- 
diers were  slain.  To  this  day,  the  relics  of  the  fight 
are  ploughed  up  from  the  ground,  and  the  spot  where 


152  HANNIBAL. 

the  battle  took  place,  is  called  the  "  field  of  blood." 
If  the  red  stain  has  long  since  vanished  from  the  soil, 
time  cannot  wash  out  the  bloody  record  from  the 
memory  of  man. 

Beside  this  fearful  carnage,  ten  thousand  Roman 
soldiers  were  taken  prisoners.  The  Carthaginian 
loss  was  small.  We  can  only  account  for  such  events 
as  these,  by  the  supposition  that  Hannibal,  whose 
army  was  scarcely  half  as  large  as  that  of  the  Ro- 
mans, was  a  man  greatly  superior  in  capacity  even 
to  the  able  and  practised  generals  of  Rome,  who  were 
sent  against  him.  Nothing  in  modern  times  has  been 
witnessed,  to  compare  with  his  achievements,  except 
those  of  Napoleon,  operating  in  the  same  countries, 
and  also  contending  against  disciplined  troops  and 
generals  long  practised  in  the  military  art. 
\  The  whole  of  lower  Italy  was  now  in  the  posses- 
sion of  Hannibal.  He  had  entered  the  country  by 
the  north,  and,  having  passed  Rome,  was  in  the  south- 
ern portion  of  the  peninsula.  It  would  seem  that  he 
was  now  near  the  consummation  of  his  wishes,  and 
that  the  imperial  city  must  fall  before  him ;  but  such 
was  not  the  event.  A  defensive  system  was  still  ob- 
served, and  the  city  being  too  formidable  for  attack, 
Hannibal  was  obliged  to  look  around  for  aid.  He 
applied  to  Philip  of  Macedon  and  the  Syracusans, 
but  the  Romans  contrived  to  keep  both  occupied  at 
home. 

Hasdrubal,  the  brother  of  Hannibal,  had  charge  of 
the  Carthaginian  forces  in  Spain,  where  he  conducted 
the  war  wdth  ability.  In  a  great  battle,  he  defeated 
the  Romans ;  and  two  generals,  by  the  name  of  Scipio, 


HANNIBAL.  153 

fell.  Another  Scipio  was  sent  thither,  and  he 
soon  recovered  in  Spain  what  the  Romans  had  lost 
there.  ^  Hasdrubal  now  left  that  country  to  join  his 
brother,  and,  crossing  the  Alps  without  opposition, 
reached  Italy.  Before  he  could  effect  the  junction 
he  desired,  he  was  met  by  the  Roman  forces,  his 
army  cut  to  pieces  and  he  himself  slain.  Hannibal 
was  now  obliged  to  act  on  the  defensive.  Yet  he 
continued  to  sustain  himself  here  for  a  series  of  years 
without  calling  upon  Carthage  for  supplies. 

Scipio,  having  finished  the  war  in  Spain,  now 
transported  his  army  across  the  Mediterranean :  thus 
carrying  the  war  into  Africa,  and  giving  rise  to  an 
expression  still  in  vogue,  and  significant  of  effective 
retaliation.  By  the  aid  of  Massanissa,  a  powerful 
prince  of  Numidia,  nov^  Morocco,  he  gained  two  vic- 
tories over  the  Carthaginians,  who  were  obliged 
hastily  to  recal  their  great  commander  from  Italy. 
He  landed  at  Leptis,  and  advanced  near  Zama,  five 
days'  journey  to  the  west  of  Carthage.  Here  he  met 
the  Roman  forces,  and  here,  for  the  first  time,  he  suf- 
fered a  total  defeat.  The  loss  of  the  Carthaginians 
was  immense,  and  they  were  obliged  to  sue  for 
peace.  This  was  granted  on  humiliating  terms  by 
Scipio,  called  Africanus,  after  this  victory.  Hannibal 
would  still  have  resisted,  but  he  was  compelled  by 
his  countrymen  to  submit.  Thus  ended  the  second 
Punic  war,  200  B.  C,  having  continued  about  eigh- 
teen years. 

Hannibal  now  applied  himself  to  the  reform  of 
abuses  in  the  government  of  Carthage.  In  this  he 
was  supported  by  the  people,  but  he  incurred  the  dis- 


154  HANNIBAL. 

like  of  certain  leading  men  among  his  countrymen. 
These,  insensible  to  his  great  services,  and  only  guided 
by  their  jealousy,  sent  to  the  Roman  authorities  cer- 
tain representations,  calculated  to  excite  their  suspi- 
cion and  arouse  their  anger  against  him.  Ambassa- 
dors were  accordingly  sent  to  Carthage,  to  demand 
his  punishment;  but  Hannibal,  foreseeing  the  storm, 
fled  to  Tyre.  From  this  place  he  went  to  Ephesus, 
and  induced  Antiochus  to  declare  war  against  Rome, 
B.  C.  196.  He  had  himself  but  a  subordinate  com- 
mand, and  when  the  war,  which  proved  unfortunate, 
was  over,  he  was  compelled  to  depart,  and  seek  a 
refuge  with  Prusias,  prince  of  Bithynia,  in  Asia  Minor. 
The  Romans,  being  uneasy  so  long  as  their  formidable 
enemy  was  alive,  sent  to  Prusias  to  demand  that  he 
should  be  given  up.  Hannibal,  now  driven  to  extrem- 
ity, and  sick  of  life,  destroyed  himself  by  poison,  B.  C. 
183,  in  the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 

We  have  no  accounts  of  this  wonderful  man  except 
from  his  enemies,  the  Romans,  and  nothing  from 
them  but  his  public  career.  Prejudiced  as  are  these 
sources  of  evidence,  they  still  exhibit  him  as  one  of 
the  most  extraordinary  men  that  has  ever  lived. 
Many  of  the  events  of  his  life  remind  us  of  the  career 
of  Napoleon.  Like  him,  he  crossed  the  Alps  with  a 
great  army ;  like  him,  he  was  repeatedly  victorious 
over  disciplined  and  powerful  forces  in  Italy  ;  like  him, 
he  was  finally  overwhelmed  in  a  great  battle ;  like 
him,  he  was  a  statesman  as  well  as  a  general ;  like  him, 
he  was  the  idol  of  the  army ;  like  him,  he  was  finally 
driven  from  his  country  and  died  in  exile.  No  one 
achievement  of  Bonaparte's  life  was  equal  to  that  of 
Hannibal  in  crossing  the  Alps,  if  we  consider  the  dif- 


HANNIBAL. 


155 


ficulties  he  had  to  encounter;  nor  has  anything  in 
generalship  surpassed  the  ability  he  displayed  in  sus- 
taining himself  and  his  army,  for  sixteen  years,  in 
Italy,  in  the  face  of  Rome,  and  without  asking  for 
assistance  from  his  own  country. 

During  this  whole  period  he  never  once  dismissed 
his  forces,  and  though  they  were  composed  of  Afri- 
cans, Spaniards,  Gauls,  Carthaginians  and  Greeks — 
persons  of  different  laws,  languages  and  habits — never 
was  anything  like  mutiny  displayed  among  them. 
How  wonderful  was  the  genius  that  held  such  a  vast 
number  of  persons — the  fiery  spirits  of  so  many  dif- 
ferent nations — subject  to  one  will,  and  obedient  to  one 
authority !  Where  can  we  look  for  evidence  of  talent 
superior  to  this  ?  We  cannot  doubt  that  Hannibal,  in 
addition  to  his  great  mind,  possessed  those  personal 
qualifications,  which  enabled  him  to  exercise  powers 
of  fascination  over  all  those  persons  who  came  into 
his  presence ;  and  that,  in  this  respect  too,  he  bore  a 
resemblance  to  Napoleon. 

We  may  not  approve,  yet  we  can  hardly  fail  to 
admire,  the  unflinching  hostility  of  Hannibal  to  Rome. 
He  had  been  taught  this  in  his  childhood ;  it  came 
with  the  first  lessons  of  life,  and  from  the  lips  of  a 
father ;  he  had  sworn  it  at  the  altar.  Rome  was  tbe 
great  enemy  of  his  country ;  and  as  he  loved  the  last, 
he  must  hate  the  first.  His  duty,  his  destiny,  might 
serve  to  impel  him  to  wage  uncompromising  war 
against  Rome ;  for  this  he  lived — for  this,  at  last,  he 
died. 

Nor  can  we  believe  that  this  sentiment,  which 
formed  the  chief  spring  of  his  actions,  was  unmixed 


156 


HANNIBAL. 


with  patriotism.  Indeed,  this  was  doubtless  at  its 
very  root.  It  was  for  the  eclipse  that  she  cast  over 
Carthage,  that  he  would  annihilate  Rome.  It  was 
from  a  conviction  that  one  of  these  great  powers  must 
give  Avay  to  the  other — that  the  existence  of  Rome 
boded  destruction  to  Carthage — that  he  waged  uncom- 
promising and  deadly  war  upon  the  former. 

That  Hannibal  was  patriotic,  is  evinced  also  by  the 
reforms  which  he  sought  to  effect  in  the  government 
of  his  country.  These  had  for  their  object  the  ben- 
efit of  the  people  at  large.  For  this,  he  obtained  the 
confidence  of  the  mass,  while  he  incurred  the  hos- 
tility of  the  few.  It  is  no  evidence  against  him 
that  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  jealousy  thus  excited,  for 
such  has  too  often  been  the  fate  of  the  lover  of  his 
country. 


ILlXiirill,  Klirt  •!  MA«] 

It  is  now  somewhat  more  than  two  thousand  years 
since  this  warrior  flourished ;  yet  his  image  continues 
to  stand  out  from  the  page  of  history  in  bold  reliel^ 
seeming  not  only  to  claim  our  attention,  but  to  chal- 
lenge our  admiration.  A  brief  outline  of  his  history 
may  enable  us  to  judge  upon  what  basis  this  undying 
fame  is  founded. 

Alexander  was  born  354  B.  C,  on  the  same  day 
that  Erostratus  destroyed  the  famous  temple  of  Diana 
at  Ephesus,  by  fire.  A  wit  of  the  time  remarked 
that  "  it  was  no  wonder  that  the  temple  of  Diana 
should  be  burnt  at  Ephesus,  while  the  goddess  was  at 
Macedon,  attending  the  birth  of  Alexander."  Plu- 
tarch observes  that  this  witticism  was  frigid  enough 


158  ALEXANDER. 

to  have  extinguished  the  flames.  Philip,  Alexander's 
father,  being  absent  at  the  time  of  his  birth,  received 
three  messages  in  one  day :  the  first  informed  him 
that  his  general,  Parmenio,  had  won  a  great  battle  ; 
the  second,  that  his  horse  had  gained  the  prize  at  the 
Olympic  games ;  the  third,  that  his  wife  had  borne 
him  a  son. 

At  the  time  of  Alexander's  birth,  Macedonia,  which  i 
lay  north  of  Greece,  and  now  constitutes  that  part  of 
Turkey  called  Romelia,  had  become  a  warlike  and 
powerful  kingdom.  Philip  was  not  only  an  able 
warrior,  but  an  ambitious  and  sagacious  statesman. 
He  greatly  civilized  his  own  people,  trained  them  to 
arms,  and  added  to  his  kingdom  several  adjacent 
states.  By  a  series  of  victories  and  crafty  negotiations 
he  had  also  become  the  nominal  protector,  but  real 
master  of  Greece.  It  was  against  the  insidious  policy 
of  Philip  that  Demosthenes  pronounced  his  caustic 
speeches,  which  gave  rise  to  the  term  "  Philippics." 

Although  Philip  was  ruthless  in  war  and  unscru- 
pulous in  policy,  still  he  was  a  very  enlightened 
prince.  He  understood  many  of  the  arts,  customs 
and  feelings  which  belong  to  civilization ;  nor  was  he 
destitute  of  noble  traits  of  character.  We  are  told 
that  a  Grecian,  named  Arcadius,  was  constantly  rail- 
ing against  him.  Venturing  once  into  the  dominions 
of  Philip,  the  courtiers  suggested  to  their  prince  that 
he  had  now  an  opportunity  to  punish  Arcadius  for 
his  past  insults,  and  to  put  it  out  of  his  power  to  re- 
peat them.  The  king  took  their  advice,  but  in  a  dif- 
ferent way.  Instead  of  seizing  the  hostile  stranger, 
and  putting  him  to  death,  he  sent  for  him,  and  then 
( 


ALEXANDER.  159 

caused  him  to  be  dismissed,  loaded  with  courtesies 
and  kindness. 

Some  time  after  Arcadius*  departure  from  Mace- 
don,  word  was  brought  that  the  king's  old  enemy  had 
become  one  of  his  warmest  friends,  and  did  nothing 
but  diffuse  his  praises  wherever  he  went.  On  hear- 
ing this,  Philip  turned  to  his  courtiers,  and  said  with 
a  smile,  "  Am  not  I  a  better  physician  than  you  are  ?" 
We  are  also  told  of  numerous  instances  in  which 
Philip  treated  his  prisoners  of  war  with  a  kindness 
quite  unusual  in  the  barbarous  age  in  which  he  lived. 
Though  dissolute  in  private  life,  as  a  prince  he  was 
far  in  advance  of  his  nation  in  all  that  belongs  to 
civilization. 

No  better  evidence  of  his  enlightened  views  can  be 
required  than  is  afforded  by  the  pains  he  bestowed 
upon  the  education  of  Alexander,  his  eldest  son,  and 
heir  to  his  throne.  He  obtained  for  him  the  best 
masters,  and  finally  placed  him  under  the  care  of 
Aristotle,  then  the  most  learned  and  famous  philoso- 
pher of  Greece,  and  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
men  that  ever  lived.  It  cannot  but  be  interesting 
and  instructive  to  trace  the  history  of  the  greatest 
warrior,  who  was,  at  the  same  time,  the  pupil  of  the 
greatest  philosopher,  of  antiquity. 

Alexander  was  an  apt  and  attentive  student,  and 
easily  mastered  the  studies  to  which  he  applied.  He 
was  somewhat  headstrong  if  treated  with  harshness, 
and  he  resisted,  if  an  attempt  was  made  to  drive  him. 
He,  however,  was  docile  and  obedient  when  treated 
gently.  It  would  seem,  that,  in  this  at  least,  he  was 
very  much  like  the  clever  boys  of  our  own  day.     He 


160  ALEXANDER. 

mastered  not  only  matters  of  science,  but  polite  litera- 
ture also.  He  was  greatly  delighted  with  Homer's 
Iliad,  and,  it  is  thought,  modelled  himself  upon  the 
warlike  heroes  of  that  poem.  In  after  days,  even  in 
his  campaigns,  he  took  a  copy  of  this  work  with  him, 
and  in  the  camp,  read  it  at  moments  of  leisure,  and 
slept  with  it  at  night  beneath  his  pillow. 

Alexander  was  greatly  attached  to  Aristotle  during 
his  pupilage,  though  he  changed  both  in  feeling  and 
conduct  towards  him  afterwards.  Philip  seems  to 
have  formed  a  high  estimate  of  the  services  rendered 
by  Aristotle.  The  latter  being  born  at  Stagira — and 
hence  called  the  Stagirite — which  had  been  disman- 
tled, Philip  ordered  it,  in  compliment  to  the  philoso- 
pher, to  be  rebuilt,  and  re-established  there  the  inhab- 
itants which  had  either  fled  or  been  reduced  to 
slavery.  He  also  ordered  a  beautiful  promenade, 
called  Mirza,  to  be  prepared  on  the  borders  of  the 
river,  for  the  studies  and  literary  conversation  of  the 
people,  s  Here  were  shown,  even  in  the  time  of  Plu- 
tarch, Aristotle's  stone  seats  and  shady  walks. 

It  is  interesting  to  remark  here,  that  both  Philip 
and  Alexander,  powerful  sovereigns  and  men  of  great 
minds,  were  yet  inferior,  in  what  constitutes  greatness, 
to  Aristotle.  They  treated  him,  indeed,  as  their  infe- 
rior— an  object  of  their  patronage  ;  and  it  is  also  true, 
that  both  Philip  and  Alexander  are  remembered  at 
the  present  day  ;  but  the  consequences  of  their  ac- 
tions ceased  ages  ago.  Not  so  with  Aristotle :  his 
books  being  preserved,  have  come  down  to  our  times, 
and  for  two  thousand  years  have  been  constantly  ex- 
ercising a  powerful  influence  over  mankind.     There 


ALEfXANDER.  161 

can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  school-master  is 
infinitely  above  the  prince  ;  the  one  lives  for  a  genera- 
tion, the  other  for  all  time ;  the  one  deals  with  exter- 
nal things  which  perish;  the  other  with  knowledge, 
science — principles — which  never  die.  The  one  is  a 
being  of  action,  the  other  of  mind  ;  the  one  may 
be  great  for  a  brief  space  in  tha  eye  of  vulgar  obser- 
vation, but  he  is  soon  quenched  in  utter  oblivion ;  the 
other,  though  his  body  be  dead,  still  lives  by  the 
power  of  the  spirit.  It  is  desirable  to  impress  this 
truth  on  our  hearts,  for  it  shows  that  true  glory  lies 
in  cultivating  and  exercising  the  mind ;  while,  in 
comparison,  it  is  a  poor  and  mean  ambition,  which 
incites  us  to  seek  only  worldly  power  or  wealth  or 
station.  /. 

At  an  early  period,  Alexander  displayed  noble 
qualities,  amid  some  vices.  He  was  exceedingly  am- 
bitious, and  when  news  came  that  his  father  had 
taken  some  strong  town,  or  won  some  great  battle, 
"  My  father  will  conquer,"  he  exclaimed  impatiently, 
''  the  whole  world,  and  will  leave  nothing  for  me  to 
conquer."  Though  in  the  light  of  our  Christian  phi- 
losophy, nothing  more  wicked  than  the  feelings  here 
displayed  could  exist,  still  it  accorded  with  the  edu- 
cation he  had  received,  and  was  an  earnest  of  that 
love  of  war  and  conquest  which  signalized  his  after 
career.  It  may  be  stated,  also,  that  Alexander  did 
not  value  riches  or  pleasure,  in  his  youth,  but  seemed 
to  be  always  excited  by  a  love  of  glory ;  he  did  not 
desire  a  kingdom  that  should  afford  him  opulence 
and  the  means  of  luxury,  but  one  that  would  bring 
wars  and  conflicts,  and  the  full  exercise  of  ambition. 

K 


162  ALEXANDER. 

A  sad  portrait  this,  viewed  in  the  light  of  our  day — 
yet  the  very  description  of  a  hero,  and  almost  of  a 
god,  in  the  age  and  country  in  which  he  lived. 

When  Alexander  was  about  twelve  years  old,  a 
horse  was  brought  for  sale  from  Thessaly,  called  Buce- 
phalus. The  price  required  was  about  £2,500  sterling, 
or  $12,000.  Yet  when  any  one  attempted  to  mount 
him,  he  became  restive  and  unmanageable.  Philip  was 
incensed  that  such  a  price  should  be  asked  for  so 
vicious  a  beast,  but  Alexander  had  observed  him  care- 
fully, and  saw  that  he  was  indeed  a  noble  creature. 
He  therefore  wished  to  try  him.  His  father  rebuked 
him  sharply,  but  the  prince  persevered,  and  desired 
to  mount  the  horse.  "  If  you  are  not  able  to  ride  him 
upon  trial,"  said  Philip,  "  what  forfeit  will  you  pay  ?" 
"  The  price  of  the  horse,"  said  Alexander.  This  pro- 
duced a  laugh  rather  at  Alexander's  expense — but  the 
forfeit  was  agreed  upon,  and  he  ran  to  the  horse. 
He  had  observed  that  he  was  startled  at  his  shadow, 
the  sun  shining  very  brightly ;  so  he  turned  his  head 
to  the  sun,  leaped  lightly  upon  his  back,  obtained  a 
firm  seat,  and  gave  the  animal  the  rein.  The  noble 
beast  felt,  with  that  quick  intelligence  of  which  his 
race  is  capable,  that  one  worthy  to  be  his  master  was 
on  his  back,  and  set  forward.  Finding  him  inclined 
to  run,  Alexander,  nothing  daunted,  but  with  a  spirit 
as  wild  and  fearless  as  his  own,  and  no  doubt  with  a 
bounding  and  joyous  sympathy,  gave  him  the  spur, 
and  made  him  fly  over  the  plain. 

Philip  and  all  his  courtiers  around  him  were 
greatly  frightened  at  first,  but  soon  Alexander  wheeled 
Bucephalus  about,  and  rode  him  back  to  the  place 


. 


ALEXANDER.  163 

from  which  he  started.  The  animal  was  completely 
subdued ;  yet  there  was  something  in  his  proud  look, 
as  he  now  stood  still  before  the  admiring  throng, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  I  yielded,  but  only  to  one 
worthy  of  being  a  conqueror."  Alexander  was  re- 
ceived by  a  shout  of  acclamation — ^but  Philip  was 
overcome  by  the  noble  chivalry  of  his  boy,  and  wept 
in  very  joy.  "Seek  another  kingdom,  my  son!'* 
said  he,  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  "  for  Macedon  is 
too  small  for  thee!"  Such  was  the  value  in  those 
days  set  upon  personal  gallantry  and  courage  ;  and  we 
know  that  these  qualities  are  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance, when  hard  blows  usually  decide  the  fate  of  em- 
pires. 

Everything  seemed  to  show  that  Alexander  had 
very  early  acted  under  the  idea  of  being  a  king,  and 
of  pursuing,  in  that  character,  a  career  of  conquest. 
No  doubt  all  around  him,  the  courtiers,  his  father  and 
mother,  and  his  teachers  had  thus  trained  him,  and 
no  doubt  all  this  coincided  with  his  natural  turn  of 
mind.  He  not  only  showed  personal  courage,  but  a 
precocious  desire  of  practical  knowledge.  When  less 
than  twelve  years  of  age,  ambassadors  came  to  visit 
the  court  of  Macedon  from  Persia.  Philip  was  ab- 
sent, and  Alexander  therefore  received  them  with 
great  politeness,  and  a  sobriety  quite  astonishing. 
He  asked  no  trifling  or  childish  questions ;  but  made 
a  great  many  inquiries  about  the  roads  to  Persia; 
the  distance  from  place  to  place ;  the  situation  of 
certain  provinces ;  the  character  of  their  king ;  how 
he  treated  his  enemies ;  in  what  the  power  of  Per- 
sia lay,  &c.     All  this  astonished  the  ambassadors, 


164  ALEXANDER. 

who,  in  their  excitement,  exclaimed,  *'  The  boasted 
sagacity  of  Philip  is  nothing  to  the  lofty  and  enter- 
prising genius  of  his  son  ! "  Such,  indeed,  were  the 
striking  qualities  of  young  Alexander,  that  the  people 
of  Macedon,  in  their  admiration,  called  the  youth 
king,  and  his  father  only  general ! 

Philip  was  pleased  with  all  this,  but  as  Alexander 
grew  older,  troubles  sprung  up  between  them.  Olym- 
pias,  the  mother  of  Alexander,  was  a  woman  of  fierce 
and  restive  temper,  and  she  was  justly  incensed  by 
a  foolish  marriage  which  Philip  made  with  a  young 
lady,  named  Cleopatra.  At  the  celebration  of  this  union 
there  was  great  festivity,  and  the  king  got  drunk. 
Alexander's  mind,  having  been  poisoned  by  his 
mother,  was  in  such  a  state  of  irritation,  that  he 
spoke  rudely  at  the  feast.  Philip  drew  his  sword, 
but  his  passion  and  the  wine  he  had  drunk,  caused 
him  to  stumble,  and  he  fell  upon  the  floor.  "  See," 
said  Alexander,  insolently — "  men  of  Macedon,  see 
there  the  man  who  was  preparing  to  pass  from  Eu- 
rope into  Asia !  He  is  not  able  to  pass  from  one 
table  to  another  ! "  After  this  insult,  he  left  the  table, 
and  taking  his  mother,  they  repaired  to  Epirus. 

Here  they  spent  some  time,  but  Philip  at  last  in- 
duced them  to  come  back.  Other  troubles,  however, 
arose,  and  finally  king  Philip  was  slain  by  Pausanius, 
whom  he  had  injured.  Olympias  was  thought  to 
have  incited  the  young  man  to  this  desperate  act,  and 
suspicion  of  participation  fell  upon  Alexander. 

The  latter,  now  twenty  years  of  age,  succeeded  to 
his  father's  throne.  His  dominion  extended  over 
Macedon  and  the  adjacent  tribes  to  the  north,  includ- 


ALEXANDER. 


'UHIVEaSITY-, 


ing  nearly  the  whole  of  that  territory  wnictT^ow 
forms  a  part  of  Turkey,  and  lies  between  Greece,  and 
the  Argentaro  mountains.  Macedonia  itself,  was  far 
less  civilized  than  the  southern  parts  of  Greece :  the 
people  were,  indeed,  men  of  a  different  race,  being 
esteemed  barbarous,  though  the  kings  claimed  to 
have  been  of  Hellenic  origin,  and  even  to  trace  their 
lineage  to  Achilles  and  Hercules.  The  nation  was 
much  softened  in  its  manners  by  the  wise  administra- 
tion of  Philip,  while,  at  the  same  time,  they  were 
carefully  trained  in  the  art  of  war.  The  surrounding 
tribes,  still  more  savage  than  his  own  people,  and 
often  giving  exercise  to  his  arms,  still  served  to  fill 
his  ranks  with  the  most  daring  and  powerful  soldiery. 

Greece,  too,  constituted  a  part  of  the  kingdom  now 
left  to  the  youthful  Alexander.  But  his  father  had 
only  conquered,  not  consolidated  into  one  empire,  his 
vast  dominions.  Upon  his  death,  the  barbarians  on 
the  north,  and  the  states  of  Greece  at  the  south,  feel- 
ing themselves  liberated  from  a  tyrant,  and  little 
fearing  a  youth  of  twenty,  either  revolted  or  showed 
a  disposition  to  revolt.  Alexander's  advisers  recom- 
mended him  to  give  up  Greece,  and  seek  only  to  sub- 
due the  barbarous  tribes  around  him,  and  to  do  this 
by  mild  measures. 

Such  a  course  did  not  suit  the  young  king.  He 
took  the  opposite  course  ;  marched  north  as  far  as  the 
Danube,  defeating  his  principal  enemy,  and  thus 
securing  submission  to  his  authority  in  that  quarter. 
He  then  pushed  southward,  and  fell  upon  the  restive 
Thebans,  destroying  their  city,  and  reducing  the  place 
to  a  mere  heap  of  ghastly  ruins  !     No  less  than  six 


166  ALEXANDER. 

thousand  of  the  inhabitants  were  slain  in  battle,  and 
three  thousand  were  sold  as  slaves ! 

In  the  midst  of  the  horrors  which  took  place 
immediately  after  Thebes  was  taken — fire  and  the 
sword,  slaughter,  rapine,  violence,  raging  on  all 
sides — a  party  of  savage  Thracians,  belonging  to  Al- 
exander's army,  demolished  the  house  of  Timoclea,  a 
woman  of  high  standing  and  quality.  Having  carried 
off  the  booty  found  in  her  house,  and  shamefully 
abused  the  lady,  the  captain  asked  her  if  she  had  not 
some  gold  and  silver  concealed.  She  replied  that  she 
had — and  taking  him  alone  into  the  garden,  showed 
him  a  well,  in  which  she  said  she  had  thrown  every- 
thing of  value  when  the  city  was  taken.  The  officer 
stooped  to  look  into  the  well,  when  the  lady  pushed 
him  down,  and  rolling  stones  down  upon  him,  soon 
despatched  him.  The  Thracians,  coming  up,  found 
what  she  had  done,  and,  binding  her  hands,  took  her 
to  Alexander.  When  he  asked  her  who  she  was — 
"  A  sister  of  Theagenes,"  said  she,  proudly  and  fear- 
lessly,— "  a  Theban  general,  who  fought  for  the 
liberty  of  Greece,  against  the  usurpation  of  Philip — 
and  fell  gloriously  at  the  battle  of  Cheronsea ! "  Al- 
exander was  so  much  struck  by  her  noble  mien  and 
patriotic  sentiments,  that  he  caused  her  and  her  chil- 
dren to  be  set  at  liberty.  Such  are  the  few  rays  of 
light,  that  flash  across  the  dark  path  of  the  con- 
queror ! 

Greece  was  soon  brought  to  a  state  of  submission, 
and,  as  Alexander  now  contemplated  an  expedition 
against  Darius,  king  of  Persia,  the  several  states, 
having  held  an  assembly  at  Corinth,  concluded   to 


ALEXANDER.  167 

furnish  their  quota  of  supplies.  Many  statesmen  and 
philosophers  came  to  Corinth,  where  Alexander  was, 
to  congratulate  him  upon  this  result ;  but  the  king 
was  disappointed  to  find  that  Diogenes,  the  cynic  phi- 
losopher, was  not  among  the  number.  As  he  desired 
greatly  to  see  him,  he  went  to  his  residence  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  city,  to  pay  him  a  visit.  He  found 
the  philosopher,  basking  in  the  sun ;  at  the  approach 
of  so  many  people,  he  carelessly  roused  himself  a  lit- 
tle, and  happened  to  fix  his  eyes  on  Alexander — ''  Is 
there  anything,"  said  the  king,  condescendingly — "  in 
which  I  can  serve  you  ?" — *'  Only  stand  a  little  out  of 
my  sunshine,"  said  Diogenes.  This  answer  produced 
a  laugh  among  the  crowd,  who  thought  it  mere  vulgar- 
ity ;  but  Alexander  saw  deeper,  and,  reflecting  upon 
that  superiority,  which  could  regard  even  his  presence 
without  surprise,  and  look  with  disdain  upon  his  gifts, 
remarked,  "  that  if  he  were  not  Alexander,  he  would 
wish  to  be  Diogenes." 

Alexander  set  out,  in  the  spring  of  the  year  334  B.  C, 
upon  his  expedition  against  Persia — from  which,  how- 
ever, he  never  returned.  He  had  thirty  thousand 
foot,  and  five  thousand  horse,  and  a  supply  of  money. 
His  troops  were  well  armed,  the  infantry  bearing 
shields,  spears,  and  battle-axes  of  iron ;  the  horse  were 
equipped  with  similar  weapons,  but  defended  with  hel- 
mets and  breastplates.  The  officers  all  bore  swords. 
The  arms  of  the  Persians  were  similar,  though  many 
of  their  troops  used  the  bow :  the  forces  of  Alex- 
ander were,  however,  better  provided,  better  trained, 
and  far  more  athletic  than  their  Asiatic  enemies. 

We  must  pause  a  moment  to  look  at  that  mighty 


168  ALEXANDER. 

power  which  had  now  swallowed  up  Assyria,  Babylon, 
all  the  countries  from  the  Grecian  Archipelago  on  the 
west,  to  India  on  the  east ;  an  extent  of  territory  nearly 
three  thousand  miles  in  length,  and  comprehending 
at  once  the  most  fertile  and  populous  region  on  the 
face  of  the  globe.  Such  were  the  power  and  re- 
sources of  the  Persian  empire,  that,  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  prior  to  the  date  of  which  we  are 
speaking,  it  had  sent  an  army,  with  its  attendants,  of 
five  millions  of  persons,  to  conquer  that  very  Greece, 
which  was  now  preparing  to  roll  back  the  tide  of  war, 
and  put  a  final  period  to  its  proud  existence. 

The  reigning  king  of  Persia  was  Darius  III.,  a  weak 
but  conceited  monarch,  who  held  his  court  at  the 
splendid  city  of  Persepolis,  which  had  long  been  the 
capital  of  the  empire.  His  situation  was  very  simi- 
lar to  that  of  the  sultan  of  Turkey  at  the  present  day. 
The  Persians,  though  their  king  ruled  over  almost 
countless  nations,  were  comparatively  few  in  number. 
His  revenue  was  derived  from  the  tribute  of  depen- 
dent princes,  and  the  extortions  made  by  his  own 
satraps  or  governors.  His  empire,  consisting  of  so 
many  nations,  required  constant  watchfulness,  to  keep 
all  parts  in  subjection  ;  and  as  the  Asiatic  troops  were 
inferior,  he  kept  in  his  pay,  at  all  times,  a  consider- 
able number  of  renegade  Greeks,  as  soldiers. 

Being  made  aware  of  the  design  of  Alexander, 
Darius  sent  avast  army  westward,  and  marching  into 
Syria  himself,  determined  there  to  await  his  enemy. 
Alexander  crossed  the  Propontis,nowSea  of  Marmora, 
which  immediately  brought  him  into  Asia  Minor,  and 
the  dominions  of  Persia.     As  soon  as  he  landed,  he 


ALEXANDER.  169 

went  to  Ilium,  the  scene  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  the 
ten  years'  siege  of  Troy,  celebrated  in  the  Iliad.  He 
anointed  the  pillar  upon  Achilles'  tomb  with  oil — 
and  he  and  his  friends  ran  naked  around  it,  according 
to  the  custom  which  then  prevailed.  He  also  adorned 
it  with  a  wreath,  in  the  form  of  a  crown.  These  cer- 
emonies are  supposed  to  have  been  intended  to  enforce 
the  belief  that  he  was  descended  from  Achilles — a 
claim  which  he  always  maintained. 

Meantime,  the  Persian  generals  had  pushed  forward 
and  posted  themselves  upon  the  banks  of  the  Grani- 
cus,  a  small  river  now  called  Ousvola,  which  empties 
into  the  sea  of  Marmora.  Alexander  led  the  attack 
upon  them  by  plunging  into  the  river  with  his  horse. 
He  advanced,  with  thirteen  of  his  troop,  in  the  face 
of  a  cloud  of  arrows  ;  and  though  swept  down  by  the 
rapidity  of  the  current,  and  opposed  by  steep  banks 
lined  with  cavalry,  he  forced  his  way,  by  irresistible 
strength  and  impetuosity,  across  the  stream.  Stand- 
ing upon  the  muddy  slope,  his  troops  were  now  obliged 
to  sustain  a  furious  attack,  hand  to  hand,  and  eye  to 
eye.  The  Persian  troops,  cheered  by  their  vantage 
ground,  pushed  on  with  terrific  shouts,  and  burled 
their  javelins,  like  snow-flakes,  upon  the  Macedonians. 
Alexander,  being  himself  distinguished  by  his  buck- 
ler and  crest,  decorated  with  white  plumes,  was  the 
special  object  of  attack.  His  cuirass  was  pierced  by 
a  javelin,  at  the  joint ;  but  thus  far  he  w^as  unhurt. 
Now  he  was  assailed  by  two  chiefs  of  great  distinc- 
tion. Evading  one,  he  engaged  the  other;  after  a 
desperate  struggle,  in  which  his  crest  was  shorn 
away,  and  his  helmet  cleft  to  his  hair,  he  slew  one  of 


170  ALEXANDER. 

the  chiefs,  and  was  saved,  at  the  moment  of  deadly 
peril,  by  the  hand  of  his  friend  Clytus,  who  despatched 
the  other. 

While  Alexander's  cavalry  were  fighting  with  the 
utmost  fury,  the  Macedonian  phalanx  and  the  infan- 
try crossed  the  river,  and  now  engaged  the  enemy. 
The  effect  of  a  leader's  example  was  never  more  dis- 
played. Alexander's  exhibition  of  courage  and  prow- 
ess, made  every  soldier  a  hero.  They  fought,  indeed, 
like  persons  who  knew  nothing,  and  cared  for  nothing, 
but  to  destroy  the  enemy.  Some  of  the  Persians  gave 
way  and  fled.  Their  hireling  Greeks,  however,  main- 
tained the  fight,  and  Alexander's  horse  was  killed  under 
him — but  not  Bucephalus.  "  When  Greek  meets 
Greek,  then  comes  the  tug  of  war."  The  fight  was, 
indeed,  severe,  but  at  last  Alexander  triumphed.  The 
victory  was  complete.  The  loss  of  the  Persians  was 
twenty-five  thousand  slain ;  that  of  the  Macedonians 
less  than  fifty. 

Alexander  had  now  passed  the  gates  of  Asia,  and 
had  obtained  entrance  into  the  dominions  of  the  ene- 
my. He  paused  for  a  time  to  pay  the  last  honors  to 
the  dead.  To  each,  he  erected  a  statue  of  brass,  exe- 
cuted by  Lysippus.  Upon  the  arms  which  were  taken 
and  distributed  among  the  troops,  he  caused  this  in- 
scription to  be  made  : — "  Won  by  Alexander,  of  the 
barbarians  in  Asia  ! " 

We  may  pause  here  to  note  that  Bonaparte  seems 
to  have  imitated  the  Macedonian  conqueror  in  this 
kind  of  boasting.  As  he  was  on  his  march  to  Russia, 
he  caused  to  be  graven  on  a  stone  fountain  at  Cob- 
lentz  upon  the  Rhine,  as  follows : 


ALEXANDER. 


171 


"Year  MDCCCXII.  Memorable  for  the  campaign 
against  Russia,    1812." 

The  Russian  commander,  when  Napoleon  had  been 
dethroned,  passing  through  Coblentz  with  his  troops, 
caused  to  be  carved,  immediately  beneath,  as  follows: 

"  Seen  and  approved  hy  the  Russian  commander  of 
the  town  of  Coblentz,  January  1,  1814." 

It  is  true  that  no  such  speedy  retort  awaited  the 
Macedonian  conqueror,  yet  he  was  bound  upon  an 
errand  which  was  ere  long  to  put  a  period  to  his  proud 
career. 

Alexander  soon  pushed  on  to  the  East,  and,  meet- 
ing Darius  near  the  Gulf  of  Issus,  now  Aias,  and 
forming  the  north-eastern  point  of  the  Mediterranean, 
a  tremendous  engagement  took  place.  Darius  was 
defeated,  and  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  of  his 
soldiers  lay  dead  on  the  field.  Darius  escaped  with 
difficulty,  leaving  his  tent,  and  even  his  wife  and 
daughter,  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  When  the 
fighting  was  over,  Alexander  went  to  see  the  tent  of 
Darius.  It  was,  indeed,  a  curiosity  to  one  like  the 
Macedonian  king,  little  acquainted  with  eastern  refine- 
ments. He  gazed  for  a  time  at  the  luxurious  baths  of 
Darius;  his  vases,  boxes,  vials  and  basins,  all  of 
wrought  gold ;  he  inhaled  the  luscious  perfumes,  and 
surveyed  the  rich  silk  drapery  and  gorgeous  furniture 
of  the  tent — and  then  exclaimed,  contemptuously — 
"  This,  then,  it  seems,  is  to  be  a  king," — intimating 
that  if  these  were  the  only  distinctions  of  a  king,  the 
title  deserved  contempt. 

While  Alexander  was  thus  occupied,  he  was  told 
that  the  wife  and  daughter  of  Darius,  were  his  cap- 


172  ALEXANDER. 

lives.  The  queen  was  one  of  the  loveliest  women 
that  was  ever  known,  and  his  daughter  was  also  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.  Though  Alexander  was  told  all 
this,  he  sent  word  to  the  afflicted  ladies  that  they  need 
have  no  fear ;  and  he  caused  them  to  be  treated  with 
the  utmost  delicacy  and  attention.  He  refrained  from 
using  his  power  in  any  way  to  their  annoyance  ;  and 
thus  displayed  one  of  the  noblest  graces  of  a  gentle- 
man and  a  man — a  nice  regard  for  the  feelings  of  the 
gentler  sex.  This  anecdote  of  the  conqueror  has 
shed  more  honor  upon  his  name  for  two  thousand 
years,  than  the  victory  of  the  Issus ;  nor  will  it  cease 
to  be  cited  in  his  praise,  as  long  as  history  records  his 
name. 

The  historians  represent  Alexander  as  simple  in 
his  tastes  and  habits  at  this  period.  He  was  tem- 
perate in  eating,  drank  wine  with  great  moderation, 
and  if  he  sat  long  at  table,  it  was  for  the  purpose  of 
conversation,  in  which  he  excelled,  though  given  to 
boasting  of  his  military  exploits.  When  business 
called,  nothing  could  detain  him ;  but  in  times  of  lei- 
sure, his  first  business  in  the  morning  was  to  sacrifice 
to  the  gods.  He  then  took  his  dinner,  sitting.  The 
rest  of  the  day  he  spent  in  hunting,  or  deciding  differ- 
ences among  his  troops,  or  in  reading  and  writing. 
Sometimes  he  would  exercise  himself  in  shooting  or 
darting  the  javelin,  or  in  mounting  and  alighting  from 
a  chariot  in  full  career.  Sometimes,  also,  he  diverted 
himself  with  fowling  and  fox-hunting.  His  chief 
meal  was  supper,  w^hich  he  took  at  evening,  and  in  a 
recumbent  posture,  with  his  friends  around  him. 
He  was  not  fond  of  delicacies,  and  though  they  were 


ALEXANDER.  173 

always  found  at  his  table,  he  usually  sent  them  to  •  ^ 
others.  Such  was  Alexander  during  the  early  p^ri-  >^ 
ods  of  his  campaigns  in  Asia.  -'x 

After  various  operations,  Alexander  marched  against 
Phoenicia  and  Sidon,  which  submitted  at  once.  Tyre 
resisted,  but,  after  a  siege  of  seven  months,  was 
taken  by  storm.  Eight  thousand  Tyrians  fell  in  the 
onslaught,  and  thirty  thousand  captives  were  sold  into 
slavery.  Gaza  was  now  taken,  after  a  siege  of  two 
months.  Alexander  then  marched  to  Jerusalem,  to 
punish  the  inhabitants  for  refusing  to  supply  him 
with  men  and  money.  The  high  priest,  Jaddus, 
went  forth  to  meet  the  conqueror,  attended  by  the 
priests  and  the  people,  with  all  the  imposing  emblems 
and  signs  of  the  Jewish  religion.  Alexander  was  so 
struck  with  the  spectacle,  that  he  pardoned  the  peo- 
ple, adored  the  name  of  the  Most  High,  and  performed 
sacrifices  in  the  temple,  according  to  the  instructions 
of  Jaddus.  The  book  of  the  prophet  Daniel  was 
shown  to  him,  and  the  passage  pointed  out  in  which 
it  was  foretold  that  the  king  of  Grecia  would  over- 
come the  king  of  Persia,  with  which  he  was  well 
pleased. 

The  conqueror  now  turned  his  arms  against  Egypt, 
which  yielded  without  striking  a  blow.  Having 
established  the  government  on  a  liberal  footing,  he 
set  out,  A.  D.  331,  to  attack  the  Persian  king,  who 
had  gathered  an  army  of  a  million  of  men,  and  was 
now  in  Persia.  About  this  time,  he  received  a  letter 
from  Darius,  in  which  that  prince  proposed,  on  condi- 
tion of  a  pacification  and  future  friendship,  to  pay  him 
ten  thousand  talents  in  ransom  of  his  prisoners,  to 


174  ALEXANDER. 

cede  him  all  the  countries  on  this  side  the  Euphrates, 
and  to  give  him  his  daughter  in  marriage.  Upon 
his  communicating  these  proposals  to  his  friends,  Par- 
menio  said,  "  If  I  were  Alexander,  I  would  accept 
them."  "  So  would  I,'*  said  Alexander,  *'  if  I  were 
Parmenio."  The  answer  he  gave  Darius,  was,  "that 
if  he  would  come  to  him,  he  should  find  the  best  of 
treatment ;  if  not,  he  must  go  and  seek  him." 

In  consequence  of  this  declaration,  he  began  his 
march ;  but  he  repented  that  he  had  set  out  so  soon, 
when  he  received  information  that  the  wife  of  Darius 
was  dead.  That  princess  died  in  childbed ;  and  the 
concern  of  Alexander  was  great,  because  he  lost  an 
opportunity  of  exercising  his  clemency.  All  he  could 
do  was  to  return,  and  bury  her  with  the  utmost  mag- 
nificence. 

Alexander,  having  subdued  various  places  that  held 
out  against  him,  now  proceeded  in  his  march  against 
Darius.  He  found  him  with  his  immense  army  en- 
camped on  the  banks  of  the  Bumadus,  a  small  river  in 
what  is  now  called  Kourdistan.  Alexander  imme- 
diately approached,  and  prepared  for  battle.  Being 
near  the  enemy  at  night,  the  murmur  of  the  immense 
multitude,  seeming  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea,  startled 
one  of  Alexander's  friends,  who  advised  him  to  attack 
them  in  the  night.  The  reply  was,  "  I  will  not  steal 
a  victory ! " 

During  that  night,  though  it  was  foreseen  that  a 
dreadful  and  doubtful  battle  was  to  be  fought  the  next 
day,  Alexander,  having  made  his  preparations,  slept 
soundly.  In  the  morning,  on  the  field,  he  wore  a 
short  coat,  girt  close  about  him ;  over  that,  a  breast- 


ALEXANDER.  175 

plate  of  linen  strongly  quilted,  which  he  had  taken 
in  the  battle  of  the  Issus.  His  helmet  was  of  polished 
iron,  and  shone  like  silver.  To  this  was  fixed  a  gor- 
get, set  with  precious  stones.  His  sword  was  light, 
and  of  the  finest  temper.  The  belt  he  wore  was  su- 
perb and  was  given  him  by  the  Rhodians,  as  a  mark 
of  respect.  In  reviewing  and  exercising,  he  spared 
Bucephalus,  but  he  rode  him  in  battle,  and  when  he 
mounted  his  back  it  was  always  a  signal  for  the  onset. 

Aristander,  the  soothsayer,  rode  by  the  side  of 
Alexander,  in  a  white  robe,  and  with  a  golden  crown 
upon  his  head.  He  looked  up,  and  lo,  an  eagle  was 
sailing  over  the  army  ^.t:  His  cotfrse  was  towards  the 
enemy.  The  army  caught  sight  of  the  noble  bird, 
and,  taking  it  for  a  good  omen,  they  now  charged  the 
enemy  like  a  torrent.  They  were  bravely  resisted, 
but  Alexander  and  his  troops  burst  down  upon  them 
like  an  overwhelming  avalanche,  cutting  their  way 
towards  the  tent  of  Darius.  The  path  was  impeded 
by  the  slaughtered  heaps  that  gathered  before  them, 
and  their  horses  were  embarrassed  by  the  mangled  and 
dying  soldiers,  who  clung  to  the  legs  of  the  animals, 
seeking  in  their  last  agonies  to  resist  them.  Darius, 
now  in  the  utmost  peril,  turned  to  fly,  but  his  chariot 
became  entangled  in  the  slain.  Seeing  this,  he 
mounted  a  swift  horse,  and  fled  to  Bactriana,  where 
he  was  treacherously  murdered  by  Bessus.  » • 

Alexander  was  now  declared  king  of  all  Asia,  and, 
though  this  might  seem  the  summit  of  his  glory,  it 
was  the  point  at  which  his  character  begins  to  decline. 
He  now  affected  the  pomp  of  an  eastern  prince,  and 
addicted  himself  to  dissipation.    He,  however,  contin- 

It 


176  ALEXANDER. 

ued  his  conquests.  He  marched  to  Babylon,  which 
opened  its  gates  for  his  reception.  He  proceeded  to 
Persepolis,  which  he  took  by  surprise.  Here,  in  a 
drunken  frolic,  and  instigated  by  an  abandoned  woman, 
named  Thais,  he  set  fire  to  the  palace,  which  was 
burnt  to  the  ground. 

He  now  marched  into  Parthia,  and,  meeting  with  a  \ 
beautiful  princess,  named  Roxana,  daughter  of  a  Bac- 
trian  king,  he  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  married  her. 
Some  time  after  this,  upon  some  suspicion  of  the 
fidelity  of  Philotas,  the  son  of  Parmenio,  he  caused 
him  to  be  put  to  the  torture  till  he  died.  He  then 
sent  orders  to  have  his  father,  an  old  and  faithful  sol- 
dier, who  had  fought  under  Philip,  and  who  was  now 
in  Media,  to  be  put  to  death,  which  were  but  too 
faithfully  executed.  This  horri^  transaction  was  soon 
followed  by  another,  still  more  dreadful.  Under  the 
excitement  of  wine,  a  dispute  arose  between  Alexan- 
der and  Clytus,  the  brave  officer  who  had  saved  his 
life  at  the  battle  of  the  Granicus. 

Both  became  greatly  excited :  taunts  and  gibes 
were  uttered  on  either  side.  Alexander,  unable  longer 
to  keep  down  his  rage,  threw  an  apple  in  the  face  of 
Clytus,  and  then  looked  about  for  his  sword ;  but  one 
of  his  friends  had  prudently  taken  it  away.  Clytus 
was  now  forced  out  of  the  room,  but  he  soon  came 
back,  and  repeated  the  words  of  Euripides,  meaning 
to  apply  them  to  Alexander : 

"  Are  these  your  customs  ? — Is  it  thus  that  Greece 
Rewards  her  combatants  ?  Shall  one  man  claim 
The  trophies  won  by  thousands  ?  " 

The  conqueror  was  now  wholly  beside  himself. 


ALEXANDER.  177 

He  seized  a  spear  from  one  of  the  guards,  and,  at  a 
plunge,  ran  it  through  the  body  of  Clytus,  who  fell 
dead,  uttering  a  dismal  groan  as  he  expired.         "^ 

Alexander's  rage  subsided  in  a  moment.  Seeing 
his  friends  standing  around  in  silent  astonishment,  he 
hastily  drew  out  the  spear,  and  was  applying  it  to 
his  own  throat,  when  his  guards  seized  him,  and  car- 
ried him  by  force  to  his  chamber.  Here  the  pangs 
of  remorse  stung  him  to  the  quick.  Tears  fell  fast 
for  a  time,  and  then  succeeded  a  moody,  melancholy 
silence,  only  broken  by  groans.  His  friends  attempted 
in  vain  to  console  him.  It  was  not  till  after  long  and 
painful  suffering,  that  he  was  restored  to  his  wonted 
composure. 

Alexander  now  set  out  for  the  conquest  of  India, 
then  a  populous  country,  and  the  seat  of  immense 
wealth.  After  a  series  of  splendid  achievements,  he 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Hydaspes,  a  considerable 
stream  that  flows  into  the  Indus.  Here  he  was  met  by 
Porus,  an  Indian  king,  with  an  army,  in  which  were 
a  large  number  of  elephants.  A  bloody  battle  fol- 
lowed, in  which  Alexander  was  victorious  and  Porus 
made  captive.  *'  How  do  you  wish  to  be  treated  ? "  said 
Alexander  to  the  unfortunate  monarch.  "Like  a 
king,"  was  the  brief,  but  significant  reply.  Alexander 
granted  his  request,  restored  his  dominions  and  much 
enlarged  them,  making  him,  however,  one  of  his  trib- 
utaries. 

The  conqueror,  not  yet  satisfied,  wished  to  push 
on  to  the  Ganges ;  but  his  army  refusing  to  go  far- 
ther, he  was  forced  to  return.  On  his  way  back,  he 
paid  a  visit  to  the  ocean,  and,  in  a  battle  with  some 
L 


178 


ALEXANDER. 


savage  tribes,  being  severely  wounded,  he  came  near 
losing  his  life.     On  the  borders  of  the  sea,  he  and  his 


companions  first  saw  the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  the 
tide, — a  fact  of  which  they  were  before  entirely  ig- 
norant. In  this  expedition  the  army  suffered  greatly  : 
when  it  set  out  for  India,  it  consisted  of  150,000  men ; 
on  its  return,  it  was  reduced  to  one  fourth  of  that 
number.  ^ 

Coming  to  a  fertile  district,  Alexander  paused  to 
recruit,  and  refresh  his  men.  He  then  proceeded, 
keeping  up  a  kind  of  bacchanalian  fete,  in  which  the 
whole  army  participated.  His  own  chariot  was  drawn 
by  eight  horses :   it  consisted  of  a  huge  platform, 


ALEXANDER.  179 

where  he  and  his  friends  revelled,  day  and  night. 
This  carriage  was  followed  by  others,  some  covered 
with  rich  purple  silk  and  others  with  fresh  boughs. 
In  th§se  were  the  generals,  crowned  with  flowers,  and 
inebriated  with  wine.  In  the  immense  procession 
there  was  not  a  spear,  helmet,  or  buckler,  but  in  their 
places  cups,  flagons,  and  goblets.  The  whole  country 
resounded  with  flutes,  clarionets,  and  joyous  songs. 
The  scene  was  attended  with  the  riotous  dances  and 
frolics  of  a  multitude  of  women.  This  licentious 
march  continued  for  seven  days. 

When  he  arrived  at  Susa,  in  Persia,  he  married  a 
great  number  of  his  friends  to  Persian  ladies.  He 
set  the  example  by  taking  Statira,  daughter  of  Darius, 
to  himself,  and  gave  her  sister  to  Hephsestion,  his 
dearest  friend.  He  now  made  a  nuptial  feast  for  the 
newly-married  people,  and  nine  thousand  persons  sat 
down  to  the  entertainment.  Each  one  was  honored 
with  a  golden  cup. 

On  his  return  to  Babylon,  Alexander  determined 
to  make  that  place  his  residence  and  capital,  and  set 
about  various  plans  for  carrying  this  into  effect.  But 
his  mind  seemed  haunted  with  superstitious  fears. 
Everything  that  happened  was  construed  into  an 
augury  of  evil.  The  court  swarmed  with  sacrifices, 
and  soothsayers,  but  still,  for  a  long  time,  peace  could 
not  be  obtained  by  the  monarch. 

At  last  he  seemed  to  be  relieved,  and  being  asked 
by  Medias  to  a  carousal,  he  drank  all  day  and  all 
night,  until  he  found  a  fever  coming  upon  him.  He 
then  desisted,  but  it  was  too  late.  The  disease  in- 
creased, setting  at  defiance  every  attempt  at  remedy, 


180  ALEXANDER. 

and  in  the  space  of  about  thirty  days  he  died.  Such 
was  the  miserable  end  of  Alexander  the  Great.  His 
wife,  Roxana,  with  the  aid  of  Perdiccas,  murdered 
Statira  and  her  sister,  and  the  empire  of  the  mighty 
conqueror  was  divided  between  four  of  his  officers. 

The  great  achievement  of  Alexander — the  grand 
result  of  his  life — was  the  subjugation  of  the  Persian 
monarchy,  which  lay  like  an  incubus  upon  the  nu- 
merous nations  that  existed  between  the  Indus  and 
the  Euxine  sea,  and  at  the  same  time  intercepted  the 
communication  between  Europe  and  Asia.  It  was 
an  achievement  far  greater  than  it  would  be  now  to 
overthrow  the  Ottoman  throne,  and  give  indepen- 
dence, to  the  various  tribes  and  states  that  are  at  pres- 
ent under  its  dominion.  That  he  accomplished  this 
work  for  any  good  motive,  we  cannot  maintain,  for 
his  whole  course  shows,  that,  like  all  other  conquer- 
ors, his  actions  began  and  terminated  in  himself. 

The  character  of  Alexander  has  been  delineated  in 
the  course  of  this  brief  sketch.  We  have  not  been 
able  to  give  the  details  of  all  his  battles,  marches,  and 
countermarches.  His  achievements  were  indeed  stu- 
pendous. He  crossed  the  Propontis  in  334,  and  died 
in  323.  It  was  in  the  brief  space  of  eleven  years, 
and  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  that  he  had  accom- 
plished the  deeds  of  which  we  have  given  a  naked 
outline.  Nor  was  he  a  mere  warrior.  He  displayed 
great  talents  as  a  statesman,  and  many  of  the  traits 
of  a  gentleman.  His  whole  life,  indeed,  was  founded 
upon  an  atrocious  wrong — that  one  man  may  sacrifice 
millions  of  lives  for  his  own  pleasure — ^but  this  was 
the  error  of  the  age.    As  before  intimated,  considered 


ALEXANDER.  181 

in  the  liglit  of  Christianity,  he  was  a  monster ;  yet, 
according  to  the  heathen  model,  he  was  a  hero,  and 
ahnost  a  god. 

In  seeking  for  the  motives  which  impelled  Alexan- 
der forward  in  his  meteor-like  career,  we  shall  see 
that  it  was  the  love  of  glory — an  inspiration  like  thaf 
of  the  chase,  in  which  the  field  is  an  empire,  and  the 
game  a  monarch.  In  this  wild  ambition,  he  was 
stimulated  by  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  and  it  was  his  dar- 
ling dream  to  match  the  bloody  deeds  of  its  heroes — 
Ajax  and  Achilles.  It  is  impossible  to  see  in  his 
conduct,  anything  which  shows  a  regard  to  the  per- 
manent happiness  of  mankind.  He  makes  war,  as  if 
might  were  the  only  test  of  right ;  and  he  sacrifices 
nations  to  his  thirst  of  conquest,  with  as  little  ques- 
tion of  the  rectitude  of  his  conduct,  as  is  entertained 
by  the  lion  when  he  slays  the  antelope,  or  the  sports- 
man when  he  brings  down  his  game. 

Although  we  see  many  noble  traits  in  Alexander, 
the  real  selfishness  of  his  character  is  evinced  in  his 
famous  letter  to  Aristotle.  The  latter,  having  pub- 
lished some  of  his  works,  is  sharply  rebuked  by  the 
conqueror,  who  says  to  him — '*  Now  that  you  have 
done  this,  what  advantage  have  I,  your  pupil,  over 
the  rest  of  mankind,  since  you  have  put  it  in  the 
power  of  others  to  possess  the  knowledge  which 
before  was  only  imparted  to  me ! "  What  can  be 
more  narrow  and  selfish  than  this  ?  Even  the  cur- 
rent standard  of  morals  in  Alexander's  time,  would 
condemn  this  as  excessive  meanness. 

We  must  not  omit  to  record  the  last  days  of  one 
that  figures  in  Alexander's  annals,  and  is  hardly  less 


I 


182  ALEXANDER. 

famous  than  the  conqueror  himself — we  mean  his 
noble  horse,  Bucephalus.  This  animal,  more  re- 
nowned than  any  other  of  his  race,  died  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hydaspes.  Craterus  was  ordered  to  superin- 
tend the  building  of  two  cities,  one  on  each  side  of 
this  river.  The  object  was  to  secure  the  passage  in 
future.  That  on  the  left  bank  was  named  Niccea,  the 
other  Bucephala,  in  honor  of  the  favorite  horse,  which 
had  expired  in  battle  without  a  wound,  being  worn 
out  by  age,  heat,  and  over-exertion.  He  was  then 
thirty  years  old.  He  was  a  large,  powerful,  and  spir- 
ited horse,  and  would  allow  no  one  but  Alexander  to 
mount  him.  From  a  mark  of  a  bull's  head  imprinted 
on  him,  he  derived  his  name,  Bucephalus;  though 
some  say  that  he  was  so  called  in  consequence  of 
having  in  his  forehead  a  white  mark  resembling  a 
bull's  head. 

Once  this  famous  charger,  whose  duties  were  re- 
stricted to  the  field  of  battle,  was  intercepted,  and  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Uxians.  Alexander  caused  a 
proclamation  to  be  made,  that,  if  Bucephalus  were 
not  restored,  he  would  wage  a  war  of  extirpation 
against  the  whole  nation.  The  restoration  of  the 
animal  instantly  followed  the  receipt  of  this  notifica- 
tion ;  so  great  was  Alexander's  regard  for  his  horse, 
and  so  great  the  terror  of  his  name  among  the  barba- 
rians. "  Thus  far,"  writes  Arrian,  "  let  Bucephalus 
be  honored  by  me,  for  the  sake  of  his  master.'* 


ARISTOTLE. 

This  great  philosopher  was  born  at  Stagira,  or 
Stageira,  in  Macedonia,  384  B.  C.  His  father,  phy- 
sician to  Amyntas  II.,  king  of  Macedonia,  commenced 
the  education  of  his  son,  intending  to  prepare  him 
for  his  own  profession ;  and  the  studies  pursued  by 
the  latter  with  this  object,  doubtless  laid  the  foun- 
dation for  that  love  of  natural  history,  which  he  dis- 
played through  life,  and  which  he  cultivated  with 
such  success. 

Aristotle  lost  both  his  parents  while  he  was  still 
young.  After  their  death,  he  was  brought  up  under 
Proxenes,  a  citizen  of  Mysia,  in  Asia  Minor,  who  had 
settled  in  Stagira.  Aristotle  testified  his  gratitude  to 
Proxenes  and  his  wife,  by  directing,  in  his  will,  that 


184  ARISTOTLE. 

stataes  of  them  should  be  executed  at  his  expense, 
and  set  up  as  his  parents.  He  also  educated  their 
son  Nicanor,  to  whom  he  gave  his  daughter  Pythias 
in  marrias^e.     •  / 

In  his  eighteenth  year,  Aristotle  left  Stagira  and 
went  to  Athens,  the  centre  of  letters  an4  learning  in 
Greece — doubtless  attracted  thither  by  the  fame  of 
the  philosopher,  Plato.  It  appears,  however,  that 
during  the  three^  first  years  of  his  residence  there, 
Plato  was  absent  on  a  visit  to  Sicily.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  Aristotle  paid  particular  attention  to 
anatomy  and  medicine,  as  appears  both  from  his  cir- 
cumstances in  youth,  and  what  we  know  of  his  best 
writings.  It  is  also  probable,  as  is  indicated  by  some 
statements  of  ancient  writers,  that  for  a  space  he  prac- 
tised, like  Locke,  the  healing  art ;  he  must,  however, 
from  an  early  age,  have  devoted  his  whole  time  to  the 
study  of  philosophy  and  the  investigation  of  nature, 
and  have  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  an  exclusively 
professional  career. 

His  eagerness  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and 
his  extraordinary  acuteness  and  sagacity,  doubtless 
attracted  Plato's  attention  at  an  early  period ;  thus  we 
are  told  that  his  master  called  him  "  the  Intellect  of 
the  school,"  and  his  house,  the  "  House  of  the  reader;" 
that  he  said  Aristotle  required  the  curb,  while  Zeno- 
crates,  a  fellow-disciple,  required  the  spur ;  some  of 
which  traditions  are  probably  true.  We  are  likewise 
informed  that  when  reading  he  used  to  hold  a  brazen 
ball  in  his  hand  over  a  basin,  in  order  that,  if  he  fell 
asleep,  he  might  be  awaked  by  the  noise  which  it 
would  make  in  falling.     Although  Aristotle  did  not, 


ARISTOTLE.  185 

during  Plato's  life,  set  up  any  school  in  opposition  to 
him,  as  some  writers  have  stated,  he  taught  publicly 
in  the  art  of  rhetoric,  and  by  this  means  became  the 
rival  of  the  celebrated  Isocrates,  whom  he  appears, 
notwithstanding  his  very  advanced  age,  to  have  at- 
tacked with  considerable  violence,  and  to  have  treated 
with  much  contempt.     ;. 

Aristotle  remained  at  Athens  till  Plato's  death,  347 
B.  C,  having  at  that  time  reached  his  thirty-seventh 
year.  Many  stories  are  preserved  by  the  ancient 
compilers  of  anecdotes,  respecting  the  enmity  between 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  caused  by  the  ingratitude  of  the 
disciple,  as  well  as  by  certain  peculiarities  of  his  char- 
acter which  were  displeasing  to  the  master.  But 
these  rumors  appear  to  have  no  other  foundation  than 
the  known  variance  between  the  opinions  and  the 
mental  habits  of  the  two  philosophers  ;  and  particu- 
larly the  opposition  which  Aristotle  made  to  Plato's 
characteristic  doctrine  of  ideas ;  whence  it  was  infer- 
red that  there  must  have  been  an  interruption  of  their 
friendly  relations.  The  probability,  however,  is,  that 
Aristotle,  at  whatever  time  he  may  hare  formed  his 
philosophical  opinions,  had  not  published  them  in  an 
authoritative  shape,  or  entered  into  any  public  contro- 
versy, before  his  master's  death.  In  his  Nicomachean 
Ethics,  moreover,  which  was  probably  one  of  his 
latest  works,  he  says  "  that  it  is  painful  to  him  to 
refute  the  doctrine  of  ideas,  as  it  had  been  introduced 
by  persons  who  were  his  friends :  nevertheless,  that 
it  is  his  duty  to  disregard  such  private  feelings ;  for, 
both  philosophers  and  truth  being  dear  to  him,  it  is 
tight  to  give  the  preference  to  truth."     He  is,  like- 


186  ARISTOTLE. 

wise,  stated  to  have  erected  an  altar  to  his  master, 
inscribing  on  it  that  he  was  a  man  '*  whom  the  wicked 
ought  not  even  to  praise." 

After  the  death  of  Plato,  Aristotle  left  Athens  and 
went  to  live  at  the  court  of  Hermeias,  prince  of  Atar- 
neus.  He  had  resided  here  but  three  years,  when 
Hermeias,  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Persians,  was 
put  to  death.  Aristotle  took  refuge  in  Mytilene,  the 
chief  city  of  Lesbos.  Here  he  married  Pythias,  sister 
of  Hermeias,  and  who,  being  exposed  to  persecution 
from  the  Persians,  now  coming  into  power  there,  he 
saved  by  a  rapid  flight.  For  the  patriotic  and  philo- 
sophical prince  Hermeias,  Aristotle  entertained  a 
fervent  and  deep  affection,  and  he  dedicated  to  his 
memory  a  beautiful  poem,  which  is  still  extant.  On 
account  of  the  admiration  he  expresses  of  his  friend, 
he  was  afterwards  absurdly  charged  with  impiety  in 
deifying  a  mortal. 

In  the  year  356  B.  C,  Philip  of  Macedon  wrote  a 
famous  letter  to  Aristotle,  as  follows :  "  King  Philip 
of  Macedon,  to  Aristotle,  greeting.  Know  that  a 
son  has  been  born  to  me.  I  thank  the  gods,  not  so 
much  that  they  have  given  him  to  me,  as  that  they 
have  permitted  him  to  be  born  in  the  time  of  Aristotle. 
I  hope  that  thou  wilt  form  him  to  be  a  king  worthy 
to  succeed  me,  and  to  rule  the  Macedonians." 

In  the  year  342  B.  C,  Aristotle  was  invited  by 
Philip  to  take  charge  of  the  education  of  his  son, 
Alexander,  then  fourteen  years  old.  This  charge  was 
accepted,  and  Alexander  was  under  his  care  three  orj 
four  years.  The  particulars  of  his  method  of  instruc-l 
tion  are  not  known  to  us  ;  but  when  we  see  the  great- 


ARISTOTLE.  187 

ness  of  mind  that  Alexander  displayed  in  the  first 
years  of  his  reign, — his  command  of  his  passions  till 
flattery  had  corrupted  him,  and  his  regard  for  the  arts 
and  sciences, — we  cannot  but  think  that  his  education 
was  judiciously  conducted.  It  may  be  objected  that 
Aristotle  neglected  to  guard  his  pupil  against  ambition 
and  the  love  of  conquest ;  but  it  must  be  recollected 
that  he  was  a  Greek,  and  of  course  a  natural  enemy 
to  the  Persian  kings ;  his  hatred  had  been  deepened 
by  the  fate  of  his  friend  Hermeias ;  and,  finally,  the 
conquest  of  Persia  had,  for  a  long  time,  been  the  wish 
of  all  Greece.  It  was,  therefore,  natural  that  Aris- 
totle should  exert  all  his  talents  to  form  his  pupil  with 
the  disposition  and  qualifications  necessary  for  the 
accomplishment  of  this  object.  ,, 

Both  father  and  son  sought  to  show  their  gratitude 
for  the  services  of  such  a  teacher.  Philip  rebuilt 
Stagira,  and  established  a  school  there  for  Aristotle. 
The  Stagirites,  in  gratitude  for  this  service,  appointed 
a  yearly  festival,  called  Aristotelia.  The  philosopher 
continued  at  Alexander's  court  a  year  after  his  acces- 
sion to  the  throne,  and  is  said  to  have  then  repaired 
to  Athens.  Ammonius,  the  Eclectic,  says  that  he 
followed  his  pupil  in  a  part  of  his  campaigns ;  and 
this  seems  very  probable  ;  for  it  is  hardly  possible  that 
so  many  animals  as  the  philosopher  describes  could 
have  been  sent  to  Athens,  or  that  he  could  have  given 
so  accurate  a  description  of  them  without  having  per- 
sonally dissected  and  examined  them.  We  may  con- 
jecture that  he  accompanied  Alexander  as  far  as 
Egypt,  and  returned  to  Athens  about  331  B.  C,  pro- 


1h 
4    ■■ 


188  ARISTOTLE. 

Tided  with  the  materials  for  his  excellent  History  of 
Animals. 

Aristotle,  after  parting  with  Alexander,  returned  to 
Athens,  where  he  resolved  to  open  a  school,  and 
chose  a  house,  which,  from  its  vicinity  to  the  temple 
of  Apollo  Lyceus,  was  called  the  Lyceum.  Attached 
to  this  building  was  a  garden,  with  walks,  in  Greek 
peripatoiy  where  Aristotle  used  to  deliver  his  instruc- 
tions to  his  disciples ;  whence  his  school  obtained  the 
name  of  peripatetic.  It  appears  that  his  habit  was 
to  give  one  lecture  in  the  early  part  of  the  day  on 
the  abstruser  parts  of  his  philosophy,  to  his  more  ad- 
vanced scholars,  which  was  called  the  morrmig  walk, 
and  lasted  till  the  hour  when  people  dressed  and 
anointed  themselves ;  and  another  lecture,  called  the 
evening  walk,  on  more  popular  subjects,  to  a  less  select 
class. 

It  was  probably  during  the  thirteen  years  of  his 
second  residence  at  Athens,  that  Aristotle  composed 
or  completed  the  greater  part  of  his  works  which 
have  descended  to  our  days.  The  foundation  of  most 
of  them  was,  doubtless,  laid  at  an  early  period  of  his 
life ;  but  they  appear  to  have  been  gradually  formed, 
and  to  have  received  continual  additions  and  correc- 
tions. Among  the  works  which  especially  belong  to 
this  period  of  his  life,  are  his  treatises  on  Natural 
History ;  which,  as  has  been  correctly  observed  by  a 
late  writer  on  this  subject,  are  not  to  be  considered  as 
the  result  of  his  own  observations  only,  but  as  a  col- 
lection of  all  that  had  been  observed  by  others,  as  well 
as  by  himself.   ^ 

It  is  stated  by  Pliny,  that  "  Alexander  the  Great, 


^ 


ARISTOTLE.  189 


being  smitten  with  the  desire  of  knowing  the  natures 
of  animals,  ordered  several  thousand  persons,  over  the 
whole  of  Asia  and  Greece,  who  lived  by  hunting,  bird- 
catching  and  fishing,  or  who  had  the  care  of  parks, 
herds,  hives,  seines,  and  aviaries,  to  furnish  Aris- 
totle with  materials  for  a  work  on  animals."  We  are 
likewise  informed  that  Aristotle  received  from  Alex*- 
ander  the  enormous  sum  of  eight  hundred  talents, — 
nearly  a  million  of  dollars,  to  prosecute  his  researches 
in  natural  history, — a  circumstance  which  did  not 
escape  the  malice  of  his  traducers,  who  censured  him 
for  receiving  gifts  from  princes.  Seneca,  who  states 
that  Philip  furnished  Aristotle  with  large  sums  of 
money  for  his  history  of  animals,  had,  doubtless,  con- 
founded the  father  and  son, 

Callisthenes,  a  relation  of  Aristotle,  by  his  recom- 
mendation, attended  Alexander  in  his  expedition  to 
Asia,  and  sent  from  Babylon  to  the  philosopher,  in 
compliance  with  his  previous  injunctions,  the  astro- 
nomical observations  which  were  preserved  in  that 
ancient  city,  and  which,  according  to  the  statement 
of  Porphyrins,  reached  back  as  far  as  1903  years 
before  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great ;  that  is,  2234 
years  before  the  Christian  era. 

Aristotle  had,  at  this  time,  reached  the  most  pros- 
perous period  of  his  life.  The  founder  and  leader  of 
the  principal  school  of  Greece,  and  the  undisputed 
head  of  Grecian  philosophy,  surrounded  by  his  rxu- 
merous  disciples  and  admirers,  protected  by  the  con- 
queror of  Asia,  and  by  him  furnished  with  the  means 
of  following  his  favorite  pursuits,  and  of  gratifying 
his  universal  spirit  of  inquiry,  he  had,  probably,  little 


190  AKISTOTLE. 

to  desire  in  order  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  a  philoso- 
pher's ambition.  But  he  did  not  continue  to  enjoy 
the  favor  of  Alexander  till  the  end.  Callisthenes,  by 
his  free-spoken  censures  and  uncourtly  habits,  had 
offended  his  master,  and  had  been  executed,  on  a 
charge  of  having  conspired  with  some  Macedonians 
to  take  away  his  life ;  and  the  king's  wrath  appears 
to  have  extended  to  his  kinsman,  Aristotle,  as  being 
the  person  who  had  originally  recommended  him.  It 
is  not,  however,  probable  that  this  circumstance 
caused  any  active  enmity  between  the  royal  pupil  and 
his  master ;  even  if  we  did  not  know  that  Alexander 
died  a  natural  death,  there  would  be  no  reason  for 
listening  to  the  absurd  cg^mny  that  Aristotle  was 
concerned  in  poisoning  him.  Aristotle  indeed  appears 
to  have  been  considered,  to  the  last,  as  a  partisan  of 
Alexander,  and  an  opponent  of  the  democratic  inter- 
est. 

When  the  anti-Macedonian  party  obtained  the  sun 
periority  at  Athens  in  consequence  of  Alexander's 
death,  an  accusation  against  Aristotle  was  immedi- 
ately prepared,  and  the  pretext  selected,  was,  as  in 
the  case  of  Socrates,  impiety,  or  blasphemy.  He  was 
charged  by  Eurymedon,  the  priest,  and  a  man  named 
Demophilus,  probably  a  leader  of  the  popular  party, 
with  paying  divine  honors  to  Hermeias,  and  perhaps 
with  teaching  certain  irreligious  doctrines.  In  order 
to  escape  this  danger,  and  to  prevent  the  Athenians, 
as  he  said,  in  allusion  to  the  death  of  Socrates,  from 
"  sinning  twice  against  philosophy,"  he  quitted  Athens 
in  the  beginning  of  the  year  322  B.  C,  and  took  ^ 
refuge  at  Chalcis,  in  Euboea,  an  island  then  under  the 


ARISTOTLE.  191 

Macedonian  influence — leaving  Theophrastus  his  suc- 
cessor in  the  Lyceum.  There  he  died,  of  a  disease 
of  the  stomach,  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  heing 
in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age.  His  frame  is  said 
to  have  been  slender  and  weakly,  and  his  health  had 
given  way  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  having  proba- 
bly been  impaired  by  his  unwearied  studies  and  the 
intense  application  of  his  mind.  The  story  of  his 
having  drowned  himself  in  the  Euripus  of  Euboea,  is 
fabulous. 

The  characteristic  of  Aristotle's  philosophy,  as 
compared  with  that  of  Plato,  is,  that  while  the  latter, 
gave  free  scope  to  his  imagination,  and,  by  his  doc- 
trine that  we  have  ideas  independent  of  the  objects 
which  they  represent,  opened  a  wide  door  to  the 
dreams  of  mysticism — the  latter  was  a  close  and  strict 
observer  of  both  mental  and  physical  phenomena, 
avoiding  all  the  seductions  of  the  fancy,  and  following 
a  severe,  methodical,  and  strictly  scientific  course  of 
inquiry,  founded  on  data  ascertained  by  experience. 
The  truly  philosophical  character  of  his  mind,  and 
his  calm  and  singularly  dispassionate  manner  of  wri- 
ting, are  not  more  remarkable  than  the  vast  extent 
both  of  his  reading  and  of  his  original  researches. 
His  writings  appear  to  have  embraced  nearly  the 
whole  circle  of  the  theoretical  and  practical  knowledge 
of  his  time,  comprising  treatises  on  logical,  metaphys- 
ical, rhetorical,  poetical,  ethical,  political,  economical, 
physical,  mechanical,  and  medical  science.  He  like- 
wise wrote  on  some  parts  of  the  mathematics ;  and, 
besides  a  collection  of  the  constitutions  of  all  the 
states  known  in  his  age,  both  Grecian  and  barbarian, 


192  ARISTOTLE. 

he  made  chronological  compilations  relating  to  the 
political  and  dramatic  history  of  Greece. 

His  works,  however,  though  embracing  so  large  an 
extent  of  subjects,  were  not  a  mere  encyclopaedia,  or 
digest  of  existing  knowledge ;  some  of  the  sciences 
which  he  treated  of  were  created  by  himself,  and  the 
others  were  enriched  by  fresh  inquiries,  and  method- 
ized by  his  systematic  diligence.  To  the  former 
belong  his  works  on  analytics  and  dialectics,  or,  as  it 
is  now  called,  logic ;  to  the  invention  of  which  sci- 
ence he  distinctly  lays  claim,  stating  that  "  before 
his  time  nothing  whatever  Had  been  done  in  it." 
Nearly  the  same  remark  applies  to  his  metaphysical 
treatise.  "  But  of  all  the  sciences,*'  says  Cuvier, 
**  there  is  none  which  owes  more  to  Aristotle,  than 
the  natural  history  of  animals.  Not  only  was  he 
acquainted  with  a  great  number  of  species,  but  he  has 
studied  and  described  them  on  a  luminous  and  com- 
prehensive plan,  to  which,  perhaps,  none  of  his  suc- 
cessors has  approached ;  classing  the  facts  not  accord- 
ing to  the  species,  but  according  to  the  organs  and 
functions,  the  only  method  of  establishing  coftiparative 
results.  Thus  it  may  be  said  that  he  is  not  only  the 
most  ancient  author  of  comparative  anatomy,  whose 
works  have  come  down  to  us,  but  that  he  is  one  of 
those  who  have  treated  this  branch  of  natural  history 
with  the  most  genius,  and  that  he  best  deserves  to  be 
taken  for  a  model.  The  principal  divisions  which 
naturalists  still  follow  in  the  animal  kingdom,  are  due 
to  Aristotle ;  and  he  had  already  pointed  out  several 
which  have  recently  been  again  adopted,  after  having 
once  been  improperly  abandoned.     If  the  foundations 


ARISTOTLE.  193 

of  these  great  labors  are  examined,  it  will  be  seen 
that  they  all  rest  on  the  same  method.  Everywhere 
Aristotle  observes  the  facts  with  attention ;  he  com- 
pares them  with  sagacity,  and  endeavors  to  rise  to 
the  qualities  which  they  have  in  common." 

Among  the  sciences  which  he  found  partly  culti- 
vated, but  which  he  greatly  advanced,  the  most  prom- 
inent ar©  those  of  rhetoric,  ethics,  and  politics.  Of 
rhetoric  he  defined  the  province,  and  analyzed  all  the 
parts  with  admirable  skill  and  sagacity.  His  treatise 
on  the  passions,  in  this  short  but  comprehensive  work, 
has  never  been  surpassed,  if  it  has  ever  been  equalled, 
by  writers  on  what  may  be  termed  descriptive  moral 
philosophy.  His  ethical  writings  contain  an  excellent 
practical  code  of  morality,  chiefly  founded  on  the 
maxim  that  virtues  are  in  the  middle,  between  two 
opposite  vices ;  as  courage  between  cowardice  and 
fool-hardiness,  liberality  between  niggardliness  and 
prodigality,  &;c.  His  remarks  on  friendship  are  also 
deserving  of  special  notice  ;  a  subject  much  discussed 
.by  the  ancients,  but  which  has  less  occupied  the  atten- 
tion of  philosophers,  since  love  has  played  a  more 
prominent  part,  in  consequence  of  the  influence  of  the 
Germans,  and  the  introduction  of  the  manners  of  chiv- 
alry in  western  Europe.  His  treatise  on  politics  is 
not,  like  Plato's  Republic,  and  the  works  of  many 
later  speculators  on  government,  a  mere  inquiry  after 
a  perfect  state,  but  contains  an  account  of  the  nature 
of  government,  of  the  various  forms  of  which  it  is 
susceptible,  and  the  institutions  best  adapted  to  the 
societies  in  which  these  forms  are  established ;  with 
an  essay,  though  unhappily  an  imperfect  one,  on  edu- 


194  ARISTOTLE, 

cation.  This  treatise  is  valuable,  not  only  for  its  the- 
oretical results,  but  also  for  the  large  amount  of 
information  which  it  contains,  on  the  governments  of 
Greece  and  other  neighboring  countries.  Through- 
out these  last-mentioned  works,  the  knowledge  of  the 
world  and  of  human  nature  displayed  by  Aristotle,  is 
very  observable ;  and,  although  his  mind  appears  to 
have  preferred  the  investigations  of  physical  ^nd  met- 
aphysical science,  yet  he  holds  a  very  high  place  in 
the  highest  rank  of  moral  and  political  philosophers,. 
Aristotle,  it  will  be  remembered,  did  not  lead  the  life 
of  a  recluse ;  but,  as  the  friend  of  Hermeias,  the  teacher 
of  Alexander,  and  the  head  of  a  philosophical  school, 
he  was  brought  into  contact  with  a  great  variety  of 
persons,  and  learned  by  practice  to  know  life  under 
many  different  forms,  and  in  many  different  relations. 
Of  all  the  philosophers  of  antiquity,  Aristotle  has 
produced  the  most  lasting  and  extensive  effect  on 
mankind.  His  philosophical  works,  many  centuries 
after  his  death,  obtained  a  prodigious  influence,  not 
only  in  Europe,  but  even  in  Asia;  they  were  trans- 
lated into  Arabic,  and  from  thence  an  abstract  of  his 
logical  system  passed  into  the  language  of  Persia. 
In  Europe  they  acquired  an  immense  ascendency  in 
the  middle  ages,  and  were  considered  as  an  authority 
without  appeal,  and  only  second  to  that  of  Scripture ; 
we  are  even  informed  that  in  a  part  of  Germany  his 
ethics  were  read  in  the  churches  on  Sunday,  in  the 
place  of  the  Gospels.  Parts  of  his  philosophy,  which 
are  the  most  worthless,  as  bis  Physics,  were  much 
cultivated;  and  his  logical  writings  were,  in  many 
cases,  abused  so  as  to  lead  to  vain  subtleties,  and  cap- 


I 


ARISTOTLE.  195 

tious  contests  about  words.  The  connection  between 
some  of  his  tenets  and  the  Roman  Catholic  theology, 
tended  much  to  uphold  his  authority,  which  the 
Reformation  lowered  in  a  corresponding  degree.  His 
doctrines  were  in  general  strongly  opposed  by  the 
early  reformers.  In  1518  Luther  sustained  a  thesis  at 
Heidelberg,  affirming  that  "  he  who  wishes  to  philos- 
ophize in  Aristotle,  must  be  first  stultified  in  Christ.'* 
Luther,  however,  gave  way  afterwards,  and  did  not 
oppose  Aristotle,  as  to  human  learning.  Melancthon, 
who  was  one  of  the  mildest  of  the  reformers,  was  a 
great  supporter  of  Aristotle.  Many  of  his  doctrines 
were  in  the  same  century  zealously  attacked  by  the 
French  philosopher,  Pierre  Ramus.  Bacon,  after- 
wards, with  others  of  his  followers,  added  the  weight 
of  their  arguments  and  authority  against  him.  Aris- 
totle's philosophy  accordingly  fell  into  undeserved 
neglect  during  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth,  and 
the  whole  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Of  late,  however, 
the  true  worth  of  his  writings  has  been  more  fully 
appreciated,  and  the  study  of  his  best  treatises  has 
much  revived. 

The  most  valuable  of  Aristotle's  lost  works,  and  in- 
deed the  most  valuable  of  all  the  lost  works  of  Greek 
prose,  is  his  collection  of  One  Hundred  and  Fifty- 
eight  Constitutions,  both  of  Grecian  and  Barbarian 
States,  the  Democratic,  Oligarchical,  Aristocratical, 
and  Tyrannical,  being  treated  separately,  containing 
an  account  of  the  manners,  customs,  and  institutions 
of  each  country.  The  loss  of  his  works  on  Colonies, 
on  Nobility,  and  on  Royal  Government ;  of  his  Chro- 
nological Collections,  and  of  his  Epistles  to  Philip, 


ARISTOTLE. 


k 


Alexander,  Antipater,  and  others,  is  also  much  to  be 
regretted.  He  likewise  revised  a  copy  of  the  Iliad, 
which  Alexander  carried  with  hira  during  his  cam- 
paigns, in  a  precious  casket ;  hence  this  recension, 
called  the  casket  copy,  passed  into  the  Alexandrine 
library,  and  was  used  by  the  Alexandrine  critics. 
His  entire  works,  according  to  Diogenes  Laertius, 
occupied  in  the  Greek  manuscripts  445,270  lines. 


w 


DEMOSTHENES. 

This  celebrated  Grecian  orator  was  born  about  384  or 
385  years  B.  C,  at  a  period  when  Athens  had  reached 
the  zenith  of  her  literary,  and  had  passed  that  of  her 
political,  glory.  Juvenal  has  represented  him  slight- 
ingly, as  the  son  of  a  blacksmith — the  fact  being 
that  the  elder  Demosthenes  was  engaged  in  various 
branches  of  trade,  and,  among  others,  was  owner  of  a 
sword  manufactory.  His  maternal  grandmother  was 
a  Thracian  woman — a  circumstance  noticeable  because 
it  enabled  his  enemies,  in  the  spirit  of  ill-will,  to  taunt 
him  as  a  barbarian  and  hereditary  enemy  of  his 
country ;  for  the  Greeks,  in  general,  regarded  the 
admixture  of  other  than  Greek  blood,  with  the  same 
sort  of  contempt  and  dislike  that  the  whites  of  Amer- 
ica do  the  taint  of  African  descent. 

Being  left  an  orphan  when  seven  years  old,  Demos- 
thenes fell  into  the  hands   of  dishonest  guardians, 


198  DEMOSTHENES. 

who  embezzled  a  large  portion  of  the  property  which 
his  father  had  bequeathed  to  him.  His  constitution 
appears  to  have  been  delicate,  and  it  may  have  been 
on  this  account  that  he  did  not  attend  the  gymnastic 
exercises,  which  formed  a  large  portion  of  the  educa- 
tion of  the  youths  in  Greece ;  exercises  really  impor- 
tant where  neither  birth  nor  wealth  set  aside  the  obli- 
gation to  military  service  common  to  all  citizens ;  and 
where,  therefore,  skill  in  the  use  of  arms,  strength, 
and  the  power  to  endure  fatigue  and  hardship,  were 
essential  to  the  rich  as  well  as  to  the  poor.  It  may 
have  been  on  this  account  that  a  nickname  expressive 
of  effeminacy  was  bestowed  on  him,  which  was  after- 
wards interpreted  into  a  proof  of  unmanly  luxury  and 
vicious  habits  ;  indeed,  the  reproach  of  wanting  physi- 
cal strength  clung  to  him  through  life ;  and  apparently 
this  was  not  undeserved.  Another  nickname  that  he 
obtained  was  that  of  '*  Viper."  In  short,  the  anecdotes 
which  have  come  down  to  us,  tend  pretty  uniformly 
to  show  that  his  private  character  was  harsh  and  un- 
amiable. 

His  ambition  4a.ex.cdLas_^ an  orator  is  said  to  have 
been  kindled  by  hearing  a  masterly  and  much  ad- 
mired speech  of  Callistratus.  For  instruction,  he 
resorted  to  Isseus,  anJ,  as  some  say,  to  Isocrates,  both 
eminent  teachers  of  the  art  _^  rhetoric.  He  had  a 
stimulus  to  exertion  in  the  resolution  to  prosecute  his 
guardians  for  abuse  of  their  trust ;  and  having  gained 
the  cause,  B.  C.  364,  in  the  conduct  of  which  he 
himself  took  an  active  part,  recovered,  it  would  seem, 
a  large  part  of  his  property.  The  orations  against 
Aphobus  and  Onetor,  which  appear  among  his  works, 


DEMOSTHENES.  199 

profess  to  have  been  delivered  in  the  course  of  the 
suit ;  but  it  has  been  doubted,  on  internal  evidence, 
whether  they  were  really  composed  by  him  so  early     • 
in  life. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  his  success  emboldened  him  to 
come  forward  as  a  speaker  in  the  assemblies  of  the 
people ;  on  what  occasion,  and  at  what  time,  does  not 
appear.     His  reception  was  discouraging.     He  prob-    I 
ably  had  underrated,  till  taught  by  experience,  the   / 
degree  of  training  and  mechanical  preparation  requi-  ) 
site  at  all  times  to  excellence,  and  most  essential  in  ' 
addressing  an  audience  so  acute,  sensitive  and  fastidi-  ' 
ous  as  the  Athenians.     He  labored  also  under  physi- 
cal defects,  which  almost  amounted  to  disqualifications.-' 
His  voice  was  weak,  his  breath  short,  his  articulation  - 
defective  ;  in  addition  to  all  this,  his  style  was  through- 
out strained,  harsh  and  involved. 

Though  somewhat  disheartened  by  his  ill  success, 
he  felt  as  Sheridan  is  reported  to  have  expressed  him- 
self on  a  similar  occasion,  that  it  was  in  him,  and  it 
should  come  out;  beside,  he  was  encouraged  by  a 
few  discerning  spirits.  One  aged  man,  who  had 
heard  Pericles,  cheered  him  with  the  assurance  that 
he  reminded  him  of  that  unequalled  orator ;  and  the 
actor  Satyrus  pointed  out  the  faults  of  his  delivery, 
and  instructed  him  to  amend  them.  He  now  set  him- 
self in  earnest  to  realize  his  notions  of  excellence ; 
and  the  singular  and  irksome  methods  which  he 
adopted,  denoting  certainly  no  common  energy  and 
strength  of  will,  are  too  celebrated  and  too  remarkable 
to  be  omitted,  though  the  authority  on  which  they 
rest  is  not  free  from  doubt.     He  built  a  room  under 


200  DEMOSTHENES. 

ground,  where  he  might  practise  gesture  and  delivery 
without  molestation,  and  there  he  spent  two  or  three 
months  together,  shaving  his  head,  that  the  oddity  of 
his  appearance  might  render  it  impossible  for  him  to 
go  abroad,  even  if  his  resolution  should  fail.  ^The 
defect  in  his  gxticulation  Jie  .cured  by  reciting:  with 
small  pebbles  jn,his  mouth.  His  lungs  he  strength- 
ened by  practisjn^^  running  up  hill,  while  reciting 
verses.  Nor  was  he  less  diligent  .in  cultivating 
mental  than  bodily  requisites,  applying  himself  ear- 
nestly to  sfudy  the  theory  of  the  art  as  explained 
in  books,  and  the  examples  of  the  greatest  masters  of 
eloquence.  Thucydides  is  said  to  have  been  his  favor- 
ite model,  insomuch  that  he  copied  out  his  history 
eight  times,  and  had  it  almost  by  heart. 

Meanwhile,  his  pen  was  continually  employed  in 
rhetorical  exercises  ;  every  question  suggested  to  him 
by  passing  events  served  him  for  a  topic  of  discussion, 
which  called  forth  the  application  of  his  attainments  to 
the  real  business  of  life.  It  was  perhaps  as  much  for 
the  sake  of  such  practice,  as  with  a  view  to  reputation, 
or  the  increase  of  his  fortune,  that  he  accepted  em- 
ployment as  an  advocate,  which,  until  he  began  to 
take  an  active  part  in  public  affairs,  was  offered  to 
him  in  abundance. 

Such  was  the  process  by  which  he  became  confes- 
sedly the  greatest  orator  among  the  people  by  whom 
eloquence  was  cultivated,  as  it  has  never  been  since  by 
any  nation  upon  earth.  He  brought  it  to  its  highest 
state  of  perfection,  as  did  Sophocles  the  tragic  drama, 
by  the  harmonious  union  of  excellences  which  had 
before  only  existed  apart.     The  quality  in  his  wri- 


DEMOSTHENES.  201 

tings,  which  excited  the  highest  admiration  of  the 
most  intelligent  judges  among  his  countrymen  in  the 
later  critical  age,  was  the  Protean  versatility  with 
which  he  adapted  his  style  to  every  theme,  so  as  to 
furnish  the  most  perfect  examples  of  every  order  and 
kind  of  eloquence. 

Demosthenes,  like  Pericles,  never  willingly  ap- 
peared before  his  audience  with  any  hut  the  ripest 
fruits  of  his  private  studies,  though  he  was  quite  capa- 
ble of  speaking  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  his  reputation.  That  he  continued 
to  the  end  of  his  career  to  cultivate  the  art  with  una- 
bated diligence,  and  that,  even  in  the  midst  of  public 
business,  his  habits  were  those  of  a  severe  student,  is 
well  known. 

The  first  manifestation  of  that  just  jealousy  of 
Philip,  the  ambitious  king  of  Macedon,  which  became 
the  leading  principle  of  his  life,  was  made  252  B.  C, 
when  the  orator  delivered  the  first  of  those  celebrated 
speeches  called  Philippics.  This  word  has  been  nat- 
uralized in  Latin  and  most  European  languages,  as  a 
concise  term  to  signify  indignant  invective. 

From  this  time  forward,  it  was  the  main  object  of 
Demosthenes  to  inspire  and  keep  alive  in  the  minds 
of  the  Athenians  a  constant  jealousy  of  Philip's  power 
and  intentions,  and  to  unite  the  other  states  of  Greece 
in  confederacy  against  him.  The  policy  and  the  dis- 
interestedness of  his  conduct  have  both  been  ques- 
tioned ;  the  former,  by  those  who  have  judged,  from 
the  event,  that  resistance  to  the  power  of  Macedonia 
was  rashly  to  accelerate  a  certain  and  inevitable  evil ; 
the  latter,  by  those,  both  of  his  contemporaries  and 


202  DEMOSTHENES. 

among  posterity,  who  believe  that  he  received  bribes 
from  Persia,  as  the  price  of  finding  employment  in 
Greece  for  an  enemy,  whose  ambition  threatened  the 
monarch  of  the  East.  With  respect  to  the  former, 
however,  it  was  at  least  the  most  generous  policy,  and 
like  that  of  the  elder  Athenians  in  their  most  illustri- 
ous days — not  to  await  the  ruin  of  their  independence 
submissively,  until  every  means  had  been  tried  for 
averting  it;  for  the  latter,  such  charges  are  hard 
either  to  be  proved  or  refuted.  The  character  of  De- 
mosthenes certainly  does  not  stand  above  the  suspi- 
cion of  pecuniary  corruption,  but  it  has  not  been 
shown,  nor  is  it  necessary  or  probable  to  suppose, 
that  his  jealousy  of  Philip  of  Macedon  was  not,  in  the 
first  instance,  far-sighted  and  patriotic.  During  four- 
teen years,  from  352  to  338,  he  exhausted  every  re- 
source of  eloquence  and  diplomatic  skill  to  check  the 
progress  of  that  aspiring  monarch ;  and  whatever 
may  be  thought  of  his  moral  worth,  none  can  under- 
value the  genius  and  energy  which  have  made  his 
name  illustrious,  and  raised  a  memorial  of  him  far 
more  enduring  than  sepulchral  brass. 

In  339  B.  C,  Philip's  appointment  to  be  general 
of  the  Amphictyonic  League  gave  him  a  more  direct 
influence  than  he  had  yet  possessed ;  and  in  the  same 
year,  the  decisive  victory  of  Cheronea,  won  over  the 
combined  forces  of  Thebes,  Athens,  &c.,  had  made 
him  master  of  Greece.  Demosthenes  served  in  this 
engagement,  but  joined,  early  in  the  flight,  with  cir- 
cumstances, according  to  report,  of  marked  cowardice 
and  disgrace.  He  retired  for  a  time  from  Athens ; 
but  the  cloud  upon  his  character  was  but  transient, 


DEMOSTHENES. 

for,  shortly  a'fter,  he  was  entrusted  with  the  charge  of 
putting  the  city  in  a  state  of  defence,  and  was  ap- 
pointed to  pronounce  the  funeral  oration  over  those 
who  had  heen  slain.  After  the  battle  of  Cheronea, 
Philip,  contrary  to  expectation,  did  not  prosecute  hos- 
tilities against  Athens;  on  the  contrary,  he  used  his 
best  endeavors  to  conciliate  the  affections  of  the  peo- 
ple, but  without  success.  The  party  hostile  to  Mace- 
don  soon  regained  the  superiority,  and  Demosthenes 
was  proceeding  with  his  usual  vigor  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  his  political  schemes,  when  news  arrived  of 
the  murder  of  Philip,  in  July,  336. 

The  daughter  of  Demosthenes  had  then  lately 
died ;  nevertheless,  in  violation  of  national  usage,  he 
put  off  his  mourning,  and  appeared  in  public,  crowned 
with  flowers  and  with  other  tokens  of  festive  rejoic- 
ing. This  act,  a  strong  expression  of  triumph  over 
the  fall  of  a  most  dangerous  enemy,  has  been  cen- 
sured with  needless  asperity ;  the  accusation  of  hav- 
ing been  privy  to  the  plot  for  Philip's  murder,  before- 
hand, founded  on  his  own  declaration  of  the  event 
some  time  before  intelligence  of  it  came  from  any 
other  quarter,  and  the  manifest  falsehood  as  to  the 
source  of  the  information,  which  he  professed  to  de- 
rive from  a  divine  revelation,  involves — if  it  be  judged 
to  be  well  founded — a  far  blacker  imputation. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  of  his  own  procuring,  the 
death  of  Philip  was  hailed  by  Demosthenes  as  an 
event  most  fortunate  for  Athens,  and  favorable  to  the 
liberty  of  Greece.  Thinking  lightly  of  the  young 
successor  to  the  Macedonian  crown,  he  busied  him- 
self the  more  in  stirring  up  opposition  to  Alexander, 


204  DEMOSTHENES. 

and   succeeded    in   urfrinof  Thebes   into  that   revolt, 

DO  ' 

which  ended  in  the  entire  destruction  of  the  city,  B. 
C,  335.  This  example  struck  terror  into  Athens. 
Alexander  demanded  that  Demosthenes,  with  nine 
others,  should  be  given  up  into  his  hands,  as  the  au- 
thors of  the  battle  of  Cheronea  and  of  the  succeeding 
troubles  of  Greece  ;  but  finally  contented  himself  with 
requiring  the  banishment  of  Charidemus  alone. 

Opposition  to  Macedon  was  now  effectually  put 
down,  and,  until  the  death  of  Alexander,  we  hear  little 
more  of  Demosthenes  as  a  public  man.  During  this 
period,  however,  one  of  the  most  memorable  incidents 
of  his  life  occurred,  in  that  contest  of  oratory  with 
-^schines,  which  has  been  more  celebrated  than  any 
strife  of  words  since  the  world  began.  The  origin  of 
it  was  as  follows.  About  the  time  of  the  battle  of 
Cheronea,  one  Ctesiphon  brought  before  the  people  a 
decree  for  presenting  Demosthenes  with  a  crown  for 
his  distinguished  services  ;  a  complimentary  motion, 
in  its  nature  and  effects  very  much  like  a  vote  in  the 
English  parliament,  declaratory  of  confidence  in  the 
administration,  ^schines,  the  leading  orator  of  the 
opposite  party,  arraigned  this  motion,  as  being  both 
untrue  in  substance  and  irregular  in  form ;  he  in- 
dicted Ctesiphon  on  these  grounds,  and  laid  the  pen- 
alty at  fifty  talents,  equivalent  to  about  $50,000. 
Why  the  prosecution  was  so  long  delayed,  does  not 
clearly  appear ;  but  it  was  not  brought  to  an  issue 
until  the  year  830,  when  jEschines  pronounced  his 
great  oration  "  against  Ctesiphon."  Demosthenes  de- 
fended him  in  the  still  more  celebrated  speech  "  on 
the  crown."     These,  besides  being  admirable  speci- 


DEMOSTHENES.  205 

mens  of  rhetorical  art,  have  the  additional  value,  that 
the  rival  orators,  being  much  more  anxious  to  uphold 
the  merits  of  their  own  past  policy  and  conduct,  than 
to  convict  and  defend  the  nominal  object  of  prosecu- 
tion, have  gone  largely  into  matters  of  self-defence 
and  mutual  recrimination,  from  which  much  of  our 
knowledge  of  this  obscure  portion  of  history  is  de- 
rived. jEschines  lost  the  cause,  and  not  having  the 
votes  of  so  much  as  a  fifth  part  of  the  judges,  became 
liable,  according  to  the  laws  of  Athens,  to  fine  and 
banishment.  He  withdrew  to  Rhodes,  where  he  es- 
tablished a  school  of  oratory.  On  one  occasion,  for 
the  gratification  of  his  hearers,  he  recited  first  his 
own,  then  his  adversary's  speech.  Great  admiration 
having  been  expressed  of  the  latter,  "  What  then,"  he 
said,  "  if  you  had  heard  the  brute  himself?"  bearing 
testimony  in  these  words  to  the  remarkable  energy 
and  fire  of  delivery  which  was  one  of  Demosthenes' 
chief  excellences  as  an  orator. 

A  fate  similar  to  that  of  his  rival,  overtook  Demos- 
thenes himself,  a  few  years  later,  B.  C.  324.  Har- 
palus,  an  officer  high  in  rank  and  favor  under  Alex- 
ander, having  been  guilty  of  malversation  to  such 
an  extent  that  he  dared  not  await  discovery,  fled  to 
Greece,  bringing  with  him  considerable  treasures  and 
a  body  of  mercenary  soldiers.  He  sought  the  sup- 
port of  the  Athenians ;  and,  as  it  was  said,  bribed 
Demosthenes  not  to  oppose  his  wishes.  Rumors  to 
that  effect  got  abroad,  and  though  his  proposals  were 
rejected  by  the  assembly,  Demosthenes  was  called 
to  account,  and  fined  fifty  talents,  nearly  $50,000, 
as  having  been  bribed  to  give  false  counsel  to  the 


206  DEMOSTHENES. 

people.  Being  unable  to  pay  the  amount  of  the  fine, 
it  acted  as  a  sentence  of  banishment,  and  he  retired 
into  jEgina.  Like  Cicero,  when  placed  in  a  similar 
situation,  he  displayed  effeminacy  of  temper,  and  an 
unmanly  violence  of  regret,  under  a  reverse  of  fortune. 

In  the  following  year,  however,  the  death  of  Alex- 
ander restored  him  to  political  importance  ;  for  when 
that  event  opened  once  more  to  the  Athenians  the 
prospect  of  shaking  off  the  supremacy  of  Macedonia, 
Demosthenes  was  recalled,  with  the  most  flattering 
marks  of  public  esteem.  He  guided  the  state  during 
the  short  war  waged  with  Antipater,  the  Macedonian 
viceroy,  until  the  inequality  of  the  contest  became 
evident,  and  the  Macedonian  party  regained  its 
ascendency.  Demosthenes  then  retired  to  the  sanc- 
tuary of  Calauria,  an  island  sacred  to  Neptune,  on 
the  coast  of  Argolis.  Sentence  of  death  was  passed 
on  him  in  his  absence.  He  was  pursued  to  his 
place  of  refuge  by  the  emissaries  of  Antipater,  and 
being  satisfied  that  the  sanctity  of  the  place  would 
not  protect  him,  he  took  poison,  which,  as  a  last 
resort,  he  carried  about  his  person,  concealed  in  a 
quill. 

Most  of  the  speeches  of  Demosthenes  are  short,  at 
least  compared  with  modern  oratory.  He  rarely 
spoke  extempore,  and  bestowed  an  unusual  degree  of 
pains  on  his  composition.  That  style  which  is  de- 
scribed by  Hume  as  "  rapid  harmony,  exactly  adapted 
to  the  sense ;  vehement  reason,  without  any  appear- 
ance of  art;  disdain,  anger,  boldness,  freedom,  in- 
volved in  a  continued  stream  of  argument " — instead 
of  being,  as  it  would  seem,  the  effervescence  of  a 


DEMOSTHENES.  207 

powerful,  overflowing  mind,  was  the  labored  pro- 
duce of  much  thought,  and  careful,  long-continued 
polish. 

If  we  compare  the  two  greatest  orators  of  antiquity 
— Cicero  and  Demosthenes — it  may  seem  difficult  to 
decide  between  them.  By  devoting  his  powers  almost 
exclusively  to  oratory,  the  latter  excelled  in  energy, 
strength,  and  accuracy;  and  as  a  mere  artist,  was 
probably  the  superior.  Cicero,  by  cultivating  a  more 
extended  field,  was  doubtless  far  the  abler  lawyer, 
statesman  and  philosopher.  Of  the  value  of  their 
works  to  mankind,  there  is  no  comparison  ;  for 
those  of  Cicero  are  not  only  more  numerous  and  di- 
versified, but  of  more  depth,  wisdom,  and  general 
application.  We  must  also  remark,  that  while  the 
soul  of  Demosthenes  appears  to  have  been  selfish  and 
mean,  that  of  Cicero  ranks  him  among  the  noblest 
specimens  of  humanity,  whether  of  ancient  or  modem 
times. 

If  we  compare  the  speeches  of  these  great  men 
with  the  efibrts  of  modern  orators,  we  shall  see  that 
the  latter  greatly  surpass  them  in  range  of  thought, 
power  of  diction  and  splendor  of  illustration.  The 
question  then  arises,  why  did  the  orations  of  Cicero 
and  Demosthenes  produce  such  electrical  effects  upon 
their  auditors  ?  The  reason  doubtless  was,  that  they 
paid  the  greatest  attention  to  action,  manner  and 
tones  of  voice — thus  operating  upon  their  hearers  by 
nearly  the  same  powers  as  the  modern  opera.  There 
was  stage  effect  in  their  manner,  and  music  in  their 
tones,  combined  with  most  perfect  elocution — and  the 
application  of  these  arts,  carried  to  the  utmost  per- 


208 


DOMOSTHENES. 


fection,  was  made  to  the  quick  Italians  or  mercurial 
Athenians.  These  suggestions  may  enable  us  to 
understand  the  fact,  that  speeches,  which,  uttered  in 
the  less  artful  manner  of  our  day,  and  before  our 
colder  audiences,  would  fall  flat  and  dead  upon  the 
ear,  excited  the  utmost  enthusiasm,  in  more  southern 
climes,  two  thousand  years  ago. 


^u 


APELLES. 


Apelles  was  a  celebrated  painter  of  Cos,  a  little 
island  in  the  Egean  Sea.  The  date  of  his  birth  is  not 
known,  but  he  painted  many  portraits  of  Philip,  and  was 
still  flourishing  in  the  time  of  Alexander,  who  honored 
him  so  much  that  he  forbade  any  other  artist  to  draw 
his  picture.  His  chief  master  was  Pamphilius,  a 
famous  painter  of  Macedon.  He  was  so  attentive  to 
his  profession,  that  he  never  spent  a  day  without  em- 
ploying his  pencil, — whence  the  proverb  of  Nulla  die 
sine  linea.  His  most  perfect  picture  was  the  Venus 
Anadyomene,  which,  however,  was  not  wholly  finished 
when  the  painter  died. 

He  executed  a  painting  of  Alexander,  holding  thun- 
der in  his  hand,  so  much  like  life,  that  Pliny,  who 
saw  it,  says  that  the  hand  of  the  king  with  the  thunder 
seemed  to  come  out  of  the  picture.  This  was  placed 
in  Diana's  temple  at  Ephesus.  He  made  another 
^^picture  of  Alexander ;  but  the  king,  on  coming  to  see 
it  after  it  was  painted,  appeared  not  to  be  satisfied 
with  it.  It  happened,  however,  at  that  moment  a 
horse,  passing  by,  neighed  at  the  horse  in  the  picture, 
supposing  it  to  be  alive  ;  upon  which  the  painter  said, 
■  "  One  would  imagine  that  the  horse  is  a  better  judge 
of  painting,  than  your  majesty."  When  Alexander 
ordered  him  to  draw  the  picture  of  Campaspe,  one  of 


210  APELLES. 

his  favorites,  Apelles  became  enamored  of  her,  and 
the  king  permitted  him  to  marry  her.  He  wrote 
three  volumes  on  painting,  which  were  still  extant  in 
the  age  of  Pliny, — but  they  are  now  lost.  It  is  said  that 
he  was  accused,  while  in  Egypt,  of  conspiring  against 
the  life  of  Ptolemy,  and  that  he  would  have  been  put 
to  death,  had  not  the  real  conspirator  discovered  him- 
self, and  thus  saved  the  artist.  Apelles  put  his  name 
to  but  three  pictures ;  a  sleeping  Venus,  Venus  Ana- 
dyomene,  and  an  Alexander. 

Apelles  appears  to  have  been  not  only  an  excellent 
artist,  but  a  man  of  admirable  traits  of  character. 
Being  once  at  Rhodes,  he  met  with  the  productions 
of  Protogenes,^  which  so  greatly  delighted  him  that 

*  Protogenes,  a  painter  of  Rhodes,  who  flourished  about  328 
years  B.  C.  He  was  originally  so  poor  that  he  painted  ships 
to  maintain  himself.  His  countrymen  were  ignorant  of  his 
merits,  before  Apelles  came  to  Rhodes  and  offered  to  buy  all 
his  pieces,  as  we  have  related.  This  opened  the  eyes  of  the 
Rhodians  ;  they  became  sensible  of  the  talents  of  their  country- 
man, and  liberally  rewarded  him.  Protogenes  was  employed 
seven  years  in  finishing  a  picture  of  Jalysus  a  celebrated 
huntsman,  supposed  to  have  been  the  son  of  Apollo  and  the 
founder  of  Rhodes.  During  all  this  time  the  painter  lived 
only  upon  lupines  and  water,  thinking  that  such  aliment  would 
leave  him  greater  flights  of  fancy ;  but  all  this  did  not  seem 
to  make  him  more  successful  in  the  perfection  of  his  picture. 
He  was  to  represent  in  this  piece  a  dog  panting,  and  with 
froth  at  his  mouth ;  but  this  he  could  never  do  with  satisfaction 
to  himself;  and  when  all  his  labors  seemed  to  be  without  suc- 
cess, he  threw  his  sponge  upon  the  piece  in  a  fit  of  anger. 
Chance  alone  brought  to  perfection  what  the  utmost  labors  of 
art  could  not  do ;  the  fall  of  the  sponge  upon  the  picture  repre- 
sented the  froth  of  the  mouth  of  the  dog  in  the  most  perfect 


APELLES.  211 

he  offered  to  purchase  the  whole.  Before  this,  Proto- 
genes  was  entirely  unappreciated  by  his  countrymen ; 
but  the  approbation  of  one  so  distinguished  as  Apelles, 
brought  him  into  notice,  and  his  fame  soon  became 
established. 

Another  story  of  Apelles  is  told  as  having  given 
rise  to  the  well-known  maxim,  Ne  sutor  ultra  crepidam : 
Let  the  shoemaker  stick  to  his  last.  Apelles  placed 
a  picture,  which  he  had  finished,  in  a  public  place,  and 
concealed  himself  behind  it,  in  order  to  hear  the  criti- 
cisms of  the  passers-by.  A  shoemaker  observed  a 
defect  in  the  shoe,  and  the  painter  forthwith  corrected 
it.  The  cobbler  came  the  next  day,  and  being  some- 
what encouraged  by  the  success  of  his  first  remark, 
began  to  extend  his  censure  to  the  leg  of  the  figure, 
when  the  angry  painter  thrust  out  his  head  from 
behind  the  figure,  and  told  him  to  keep  to  his  trade. 

Apelles  excelled  in  grace  and  beauty.  The  painter, 
who  labored  incessantly,  as  we  have  seen,  to  improve 
his  skill  in  drawing,  probably  trusted  as  much  to  that 
branch  of  his  art,  as  to  his  coloring.     We  are  told  that 

and  natural  manner,  and  the  piece  was  universally  admired. 
Protogenes  was  very  exact  in  his  representations,  and  copied 
nature  with  the  greatest  nicety ;  but  this  was  blamed  as  a  fault 
by  his  friend  Apelles.  When  Demetrius  besieged  Rhodes,  he 
refused  to  set  fire  to  a  part  of  the  city,  which  might  have  made 
him  master  of  the  whole,  because  he  knew  that  Protogenes 
was  then  working  in  that  quarter.  When  the  town  was  taken, 
the  painter  was  found  closely  employed,  in  a  garden,  finish- 
ing a  picture ;  and  when  the  conqueror  asked  him  why  he 
showed  not  more  concern  at  the  general  calamity,  he  replied, 
that  Demetrius  made  war  against  the  Ehodians,  and  not  against 
the  fine  arts. 


212 


APELLES. 


he  only  used  four  colors.  He  used  a  varnish  which 
brought  out  the  colors,  and  at  the  same  time  preserved 
them.  His  favorite  subject  was  the  representation 
of  Venus,  the  goddess  of  love, — the  female  blooming 
in  eternal  beauty  ;  and  the  religious  system  of  the  age 
favored  the  taste  of  the  artist. 

Apelles  painted  many  portraits  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  who,  we  are  told,  often  visited  his  painting 
room.  It  is  not  easy  to  reconcile  his  rambling  life 
with  this  account,  unless  we  suppose  that  Apelles 
followed  him  into  Asia;  a  conjecture  not  altogether 
improbable,  if  we  read  the  account  of  the  revelries  at 
Susa,  after  Alexander's  return  from  India,  and  of  the 
number  of  all  kinds  of  professional  artists  then  assem- 
bled to  add  to  the  splendor  of  the  festival. 


DIOGENES. 


This  eccentric  individual  was  a  native  of  Sinope,  a 
city  of  Pontus,  and  born  419  B.  C.  Having  been 
banished  from  his  native  place,  with  his  father,  upon 
the  accusation  of  coining  false  money,  he  went  to 
Athens,  and  requested  Antisthenes,  the  Cynic,^  to 
admit  him  among  his  disciples.  That  philosopher  in 
vain  attempted  to  drive  away  the  unfortunate  suppli- 
cant. He  even  threatened  to  strike  him ;  but  Diogenes 
told  him  he  could  not  find  a  stoic  hard  enough  to 
repel  him,  so  long  as  he  uttered  things  worthy  of 
being  remembered.  Antisthenes  was  propitiated  by 
this,  and  received  him  among  his  pupils. 

Diogenes  devoted  himself,  with  the  greatest  dili- 
gence, to  the  lessons  of  his  master,  whose  doctrines 
he  afterwards  extended  and  enforced.  He  not  only, 
like  Antisthenes,  despised  all  philosophical  specula- 
tions, and  opposed  the  corrupt  morals  of  his  time,  but 
also  carried  the  application  of  his  principles,  in  his 
own  person,  to  the  extreme.  The  stern  austerity  of 
Antisthenes  was  repulsive  ;  but  Diogenes  exposed  the 

*  The  Cynics  were  a  sect  of  philosophers,  founded  by  Antis- 
thenes, at  Athens  j  they  took  their  name  from  their  disposition. 
to  criticise  the  lives  and  actions  of  others.  They  were  famous 
for  their  contempt  of  riches,  their  neglect  of  dress,  and  the 
length  of  their  beards.    They  usually  slept  on  the  ground. 


■ 


214  DIOGENES. 

follies  of  his  cotemporaries  with  wit  and  humor,  and 
was,  therefore,  better  adapted  to  be  the  censor  and 
instructor  of  the  people,  though  he  really  accom- 
plished little  in  the  way  of  reforming  them.  At  the 
same  time,  he  applied,  in  its  fullest  extent,  his  princi- 
ple of  divesting  himself  of  all  superfluities.  He  taught 
that  a  wise  man,  in  order  to  be  happy,  must  endeavor 
to  preserve  himself  independent  of  fortune,  of  men, 
and  of  himself;  and,  in  order  to  do  this,  he  must  despise 
riches,  power,  honor,  arts  and  sciences,  and  all  the 
enjoyments  of  life. 

He  endeavored  to  exhibit,  in  his  own  person,  a 
model  of  Cynic  virtue.  For  this  purpose,  he  subjected 
himself  to  the  severest  trials,  and  disregarded  all  the 
forms  of  polite  society.  He  often  struggled  to  over- 
come his  appetite,  or  satisfied  it  with  the  coarsest 
food ;  practised  the  most  rigid  temperance,  even  at 
feasts,  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  abundance,  and  did 
not  consider  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  ask  alms. 

By  day,  he  walked  through  the  streets  of  Athens 
barefoot,  with  a  long  beard,  a  stick  in  his  hand,  and  a 
bag  over  his  shoulders.  He  was  clad  in  a  coarse 
double  robe,  which  served  as  a  coat  by  day  and  a 
coverlet  by  night ;  and  he  carried  a  wallet  to  receive 
alms.  His  abode  was  a  cask  in  the  temple  of  Cybele. 
It  is  said  that  he  sometimes  carried  a  tub  about  on 
his  head,  which  occasionally  served  as  his  dwelling. 
In  summer  he  rolled  himself  in  the  burning  sand,  and 
in  winter  clung  to  the  marble  images  covered  with 
snow,  that  he  might  inure  himself  to  the  extremes  of 
the  climate.  He  bore  the  scoffs  and  insults  of  the 
people  with  the  greatest  equanimity.     Seeing  a  boy 


DIOGENES.  215 

draw  water  with  his  hand,  he  threw  away  his  wooden 
goblet,  as  an  unnecessary  utensil.  He  never  spared 
the  follies  of  men,  but  openly  and  loudly  inveighed 
against  vice  and  corruption,  attacking  them  with  keen 
satire,  and  biting  irony^  The  people,  and  even  the 
higher  classes,  heard  him  with  pleasure,  and  tried 
their  wit  upon  him.  When  he  made  them  feel  his 
superiority,  they  often  had  recourse  to  abuse,  by 
which,  however,  he  was  little  moved.  He  rebuked 
them  for  expressions  and  actions  which  violated  de- 
cency and  modesty,  and  therefore  it  is  riot  credible 
that  he  was  guilty  of  the  excesses  with  which  his 
enemies  reproached  him.  His  rudeness  offended  the 
laws  of  good  breeding,  rather  than  the  principles  of 
morality. 

On  a  voyage  to  the  island  of  JEgina,  he  fell  into 
the  hands  of  pirates,  who  sold  him  as  a  slave  to  Xeni- 
ades,  a  Corinthian.  He,  however,  emancipated  him, 
and  entrusted  to  him  the  education  of  his  children. 
He  attended  to  the  duties  of  his  new  employment 
with  the  greatest  care,  commonly  living  in  summer 
at  Corinth,  and  in  the  winter  at  Athens.  It  was  at 
the  former  place  that  Alexander  found  him  at  the 
road-side,  basking  in  the  sun ;  and,  astonished  at  the 
indifference  with  which  the  ragged  beggar  regarded 
him,  entered  into  conversation  with  him,  and  finally 
gave  him  permission  to  a^sk  him  a  boon.  *'  I  ask 
nothing,"  answered  the  philosopher,  "  but  that  thou 
wouldst  get  out  of  my  sunshine."  Surprised  at  this 
proof  of  content,  the  king  is  said  to  have  exclaimed, 
"  Were  I  not  Alexander,  I  would  be  Diogenes."    The 


216  DIOGENES. 

following  dialogue,  though  not  given  as  historical,  is 
designed  to  represent  this  interview. 

Diogenes,   Who  calleth  ? 

Alexander,  Alexander.  How  happeneth  it  that 
you  would  not  come  out  of  y^ur  tub  to  my  palace  ? 

D.  Because  it  was  as  far  from  my  tub  to  your 
palace,  as  from  your  palace  to  my  tub. 

A.   What !  dost  thou  owe  no  reverence  to  kings  ? 

D.   No. 

A.   Why  so  ? 

D.    Because  they  are  not  gods. 

A,    They  are  gods  of  the  earth. 

D.    Yes,  gods  of  the  earth  ! 

A.    Plato  is  not  of  thy  mind. 

D,    1  am  glad  of  it. 

A,    Why? 

D,  Because  I  would  have  none  of  Diogenes*  mind 
but  Diogenes. 

A,  If  Alexander  have  anything  that  can  pleasure 
Diogenes,  let  me  know,  and  take  it. 

D,  Then  take  not  from  me  that  you  cannot  give 
me — the  light  of  the  sun  ! 

A,    What  dost  thou  want  ? 

D,    Nothing  that  you  have. 

A,    I  have  the  world  at  command. 

J),    And  I  in  contempt. 

A,    Thou  shalt  live  no  longer  than  I  will. 

D.    But  I  shall  die,  whether  you  will  or  no. 

A,    How  should  one  learn  to  be  content  ? 

D,    Unlearn  to  covet. 

A,  {to  Hephcestion.)  Hephsestion,  were  I  not  Alex- 
ander, I  would  wish  to  be  Diogenes. 


DIOGENES.  217 

H.  He  is  dogged,  but  shrewd  ;  he  has  a  sharpness, 
mixed  with  a  kind  of  sweetness ;  he  is  full  of  wit, 
yet  too  wayward. 

A,  Diogenes,  when  I  come  this  way  again,  I  will 
both  see  thee  and  confer  with  thee. 

D.   Do. 

We  are  told  that  the  philosopher  was  seen  one  day 
carrying  a  lantern  through  the  streets  of  Athens  :  on 
being  asked  what  he  was  looking  after,  he  answered, 
"  I  am  seeking  an  honest  man."  Thinking  he  had 
found  among  the  Spartans  the  greatest  capacity  for 
becoming  such  men  as  he  wished,  he  said,  "  Men,  I 
have  found  nowhere,  but  children,  at  least,  I  have 
seen  in  Lacedaemon."  Being  asked,  "  What  is  the 
most  dangerous  animal?"  his  answer  was,  "Among 
wild  animals,  the  slanderer;  among  tame,  the  flat- 
terer." He  expired  323  B.  C,  at  a  great  age,  and,  it  is 
said,  on  the  same  day  that  Alexander  died.  When  he 
felt  death  approaching,  he  seated  himself  on  the  road 
leading  to  Olympia,  where  he  died  with  philosophical 
calmness,  in  the  presence  of  a  great  number  of  people 
who  were  collected  around  him. 

None  of  the  works  of  Diogenes  are  extant ;  in  these 
he  maintained  the  doctrines  of  the  Cynics.  He 
believed  that  exercise  was  of  the  greatest  importance, 
and  capable  of  effecting  everything.  He  held  that 
there  were  two  kinds  of  exercise, — one  of  the  body, 
and  one  of  the  mind, — and  that  one  was  of  little  use 
without  the  other.  By  cultivation  of  the  mind,  he 
did  not  mean  the  accumulation  of  knowledge  or  sci- 
ence, but  a  training  which  might  give  it  vigor,  as 
exercise  endows  the  body  with  health  and  strength. 


PLATO. 

It  has  been  remarked  by  Coleridge,  that  all  men 
are  born  disciples  either  of  Plato  or  Aristotle :  by 
which  he  means  that  these  two  great  men  are  the 
leaders  in  the  two  kinds  of  philosophy  which  govern 
the  thinking  world, — the  one  looking  into  the  soul,  as 
the  great  well  of  truth  ;  the  other,  studying  the  out- 
ward world,  and  building  up  its  system  upon  facts 
collected  by  observation.  The  truth  is  doubtless  to 
be  found  by  compounding  the  two  systems. 

Plato  was  bom  at  Athens,  in  May,  429  B.  C.  He 
was  the  son  of  Ariston  and  Perectonia.  His  original 
name  was  Aristocles,  and  it  has  been  conjectured  that 
he  received  that  of  Plato,  from  the  largeness  of 
his  shoulders  :  this,  however,  is  improbable,  as  Plato 


PLATO.  219 

was  then  a  common  name  at  Athens.  Being  one  of 
the  descendants  of  Codrus,  and  the  oflspring  of  a 
noble,  illustrious,  and  opulent  family,  he  was  educated 
with  the  utmost  care  ;  his  body  was  formed  and  invig- 
orated with  gymnastic  exercises,  and  his  mind  was 
cultivated  and  trained  by  the  study  of  poetry  and  of 
geometry ;  from  which  two  sources  he  doubtless  de- 
rived that  acuteness  of  judgment  and  warmth  of 
imagination,  which  stamped  him  as  at  once  the  most 
subtle  and  flowery  writer  of  antiquity. 

He  first  began  his  literary  career  by  writing  poems 
and  tragedies ;  but  he  was  disgusted  with  his  own 
productions,  when,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  he  was  intro- 
duced into  the  society  of  Socrates,  and  was  qualified 
to  examine,  with  critical  accuracy,  the  merit  of  his 
compositions,  and  compare  them  with  those  of  his 
poetical  predecessors.  He,  therefore,  committed  them 
to  the  flames.  During  eight  years  he  continued  to 
be  one  of  the  pupils  of  Socrates ;  and  though  he  was 
prevented  by  indisposition  from  attending  the  philos- 
opher's last  moments,  he  collected,  from  the  conversa- 
tion of  those  that  were  present,  and  from  his  own 
accurate  observations,  very  minute  and  circumstantial 
accounts,  which  exhibit  the.  concern  and  sensibility 
of  the  pupil,  and  the  firmness,  virtue,  and  elevated 
moral  sentiments  of  the  dying  philosopher. 

After  the  death  of  Socrates,  Plato  retired  from 
Athens,  and,  with  a  view  to  enlarge  his  stores  of 
knowledge,  he  began  to  travel  over  different  countries. 
He  visited  Megara,  Thebes,  and  Elis,  where  he  met 
with  the  kindest  reception  from  his  fellow-disciples, 
whom  the  violent  death  of  their  master  had  likewise 


220  PLATO. 

removed  from  Attica.  He  afterwards  visited  Magna 
Graecia,  attracted  by  the  fame  of  the  Pythagorean 
philosophy,  and  by  the  learning,  abilities,  and  reputa- 
tion of  its  professors,  Philolaus,  Archytas,  and  Eury- 
tus.  He  then  passed  into  Sicily,  and  examined  the 
eruptions  (5f  Etna.  He  visited  Egypt,  where  the 
mathematician  Theodorus,  then  flourished,  and  where 
he  knew  that  the  tenets  of  the  Pythagorean  philoso- 
phy had  been  fostered. 

When  he  had  finished  his  travels,  Plato  retired  to 
the  groves  of  Academus,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Athens,  and  established  a  school  there ;  his  lectures 
were  soon  attended  by  a  crowd  of  learned,  noble,  and 
illustrious  pupils  ;  and  the  philosopher,  by  refusing  to 
have  a  share  in  the  administration  of  political  affairs, 
rendered  his  name  more  famous  and  his  school  more 
frequented.  During  forty  years  he  presided  at  the 
head  of  the  academy,  and  there  he  devoted  his  time 
to  the  instruction  of  his  pupils,  and  composed  those 
dialogues  which  have  been  the  admiration  of  every 
succeeding  age.  His  studies,  however,  were  inter- 
rupted for  a  while,  as  he  felt  it  proper  to  comply  >vith 
the  pressing  invitations  of  Dionysius,  of  Syracuse, 
to  visit  him.  The  philosopher  earnestly  but  vainly 
endeavored  to  persuade  the  tyrant  to  become  the  father 
of  his  people,  and  the  friend  of  liberty. 

In  his  dress,  Plato  was  not  ostentatious ;  his  man- 
ners were  elegant,  but  modest,  simple,  and  without 
affectation.  The  great  honors  which  were  bestowed 
upon  him,  were  not  paid  to  his  appearance,  but  to  his 
wisdom  and  virtue.  In  attending  the  Olympian 
games,  he  once  took  lodgings  with  a  family  who 


Oi    THE  ^ 

PLATO.  V.   /> .       <^i     -t  V,- 

were  totally  strangers  to  him.  He  ate^^aiid  dranTc .  ^""^ 
with  them,  and  partook  of  their  innocent  pleasures 
and  amusements ;  but  though  he  told  them  his  name 
was  Plato,  he  did  not  speak  of  the  employment  he 
pursued  at  Athens,  and  never  introduced  the  name 
of  that  great  philosopher,  whose  doctrines  he  followed, 
and  whose  death  and  virtues  were  favorite  topics  of 
conversation  in  every  part  of  Greece.  When  he 
returned  to  Athens,  he  was  attended  by  the  family 
which  had  so  kindly  entertained  him;  and,  being 
familiar  with  the  city,  he  was  desired  to  show  them 
the  celebrated  philosopher  whose  name  he  bore. 
Their  surprise  may  be  imagined,  when  he  told  them 
that  he  was  the  Plato  whom  they  wished  to  behold. 

In  his  diet  he  was  moderate ;  and,  indeed,  to  sobri- 
ety and  temperance  in  the  use  of  food,  and  abstinence 
from  those  indulgences  which  enfeeble  the  body  and 
enervate  the  mind,  some  have  attributed  his  preserva- 
tion during  a  terrible  pestilence  which  raged  in  Athens 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Plato 
was  never  subject  to  any  long  or  lingering  indisposi- 
tion ;  and,  though  change  of  climate  had  enfeebled  a 
constitution  naturally  strong  and  healthy,  the  philoso- 
pher lived  to  an  advanced  age,  and  was  often  heard 
to  say,  when  his  physicians  advised  him  to  leave  his 
residence  at  Athens,  where  the  air  was  impregnated 
by  the  pestilence,  that  he  would  not  advance  one  sin- 
gle step  to  gain  the  top  of  Mount  Athos,  were  he 
assured  of  attaining  the  longevity  which  the  inhabi- 
tants of  that  mountain  were  said  to  enjoy.  Plato 
died  on  his  birth-day,  in  the  eighty-first  year  of  his 
age,  about  the  year  348  B.  C.     His  last  moments 


222  PLATO. 

were  easy,  and  without  pain ;  and,  according  to  some 
authors,  he  expired  in  the  midst  of  an  entertainment ; 
but  Cicero  tells  us  that  he  died  while  in  the  act  of 
writing. 

The  works  of  Plato  are  numerous ;  with  the  excep- 
tion of  twelve  letters,  they  are  all  written  in  the  form 
of  dialogue,  in  which  Socrates  is  the  principal  inter- 
locutor. Thus  he  always  speaks  by  the  mouth  of 
others,  and  the  philosopher  has  nowhere  made  men- 
tion of  himself,  except  once  in  his  dialogue  entitled 
PhsBdon,  and  another  time  in  his  Apology  for  Socra- 
tes. His  writings  were  so  celebrated,  and  his  opin- 
ions so  respected,  that  he  was  called  divine ;  and  for 
the  elegance,  melody,  and  sweetness  of  his  expres- 
sions, he  was  distinguished  by  the  appellation  of  the 
Athenian  bee.  His  style,  however,  though  com- 
mended and  admired  by  the  most  refined  critics  among 
the  ancients,  has  not  escaped  the  censure  of  some  of 
the  moderns.  It  is  obvious  that  the  philosopher  can- 
not escape  ridicule,  who  supposes  that  fire  is  a  pyra- 
mid tied  to  the  earth  by  numbers ;  that  the  world  is  a 
figure  consisting  of  twelve  pentagons ;  and  who,  to 
prove  the  metempsychosis  and  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  asserts  that  the  dead  are  born  from  the  living, 
and  the  living  from  the  dead.  The  speculative  mind 
of  Plato  was  employed  in  examining  things  divine 
and  human ;  and  he  attempted  to  ascertain  and  fix 
not  only  the  practical  doctrines  of  morals  and  politics, 
but  the  more  subtle  and  abstruse  theory  of  mystical 
theogony — the  origin  of  the  gods,  or  divine  power. 
His  philosophy  was  universally  received  and  adopted 
in  ancient  times,  and  it  has  not  only  governed  the 


PLATO.  223 

opinions  of  the  speculative  part  of  mankind,  but  it 
continues  still  to  influence  the  reasoning,  and  to  divide 
the  sentiments  of  the  moderns. 

In  his  system  of  philosophy,  he  followed  the  physics 
of  Heraclitus,  the  metaphysical  opinions  of  Pythago- 
ras, and  the  morals  of  Socrates.  He  maintained  the 
existence  of  two  beings — one  self-existent,  and  the 
other  formed  by  the  hand  of  a  pre-existent,  creative 
god  and  man.  The  world,  he  maintained,  was  cre- 
ated by  that  self-existent  cause,  from  the  rude,  undi- 
gested mass  of  matter  which  had  existed  from  all 
eternity,  and  which  had  ever  been  animated  by  an 
irregular  principle  of  motion.  The  origin  of  evil 
could  not  be  traced  under  the  government  of  a  deity, 
without  admitting  a  stubborn  intractability  and  wild- 
ness  congenial  to  matter;  and  from  these,  conse- 
quently, could  be  demonstrated  the  deviations  from 
the  laws  of  nature,  and  from  thence,  the  extravagant 
passions  and  appetites  of  men. 

From  materials  like  these  were  formed  the  four 
elements,  and  the  beautiful  structure  of  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  ;  and  into  the  active  but  irrational  prin- 
ciple of  matter,  the  divinity  infused  a  rational  soul. 
The  souls  of  men  were  formed  from  the  remainder 
of  the  rational  soul  of  the  world,  which  had  previously 
given  existence  to  the  invisible  gods  and  demons. 
The  philosopher,  therefore,  supported  the  doctrine  of  ^ 
ideal  forms,  and  the  pre-existence  of  the  human  mind, 
which  he  considered  as  emanations  of  the  Deity,  and 
which  can  never  remain  satisfied  with  objects  or 
things  unworthy  of  their  divine  original.  Men  could 
perceive,  with  their  corporeal  senses,  the  types  of 


224  PLATO. 

immutable  things,  and  the  fluctuating  objects  of  the 
material  world ;  but  the  sudden  changes  to  which 
these  are  continually  liable,  create  innumerable  dis- 
orders, and  hence  arise  deception,  and,  in  short,  all 
the  errors  of  human  life.  Yet,  in  whatever  situation 
man  may  be,  he  is  still  an  object  of  divine  concern, 
and,  to  recommend  himself  to  the  favor  of  the  pre- 
existent  cause,  he  must  comply  with  the  purposes  of 
his  creation,  and,  by  proper  care  and  diligence,  he  can 
recover  those  immaculate  powers  with  which  he  was 
naturally  endowed. 

All  science  the  philosopher  made  to  consist  in 
reminiscence — in  recalling  the  nature,  forms,  and  pro- 
portions, of  those  perfect  and  immutable  essences, 
with  which  the  human  mind  had  been  conversant. 
From  observations  like  these,  the  summit  of  felicity 
might  be  attained  by  removing  from  the  material,  and 
approaching  nearer  to  the  intellectual  world ;  by  curb- 
ing and  governing  the  passions,  which  were  ever 
agitated  and  inflamed  by  real  or  imaginary  objects. 

The  passions  were  divided  into  two  classes :  the, 
first  consisted  of  the  irascible  passions,  which  origi- 
nated in  pride  or  resentment,  and  were  seated  in  the 
breast;  the  other,  founded  on  the  love  of  pleasure, 
was  the  concupiscible  part  of  the  soul,  seated  in  the 
inferior  parts  of  the  body.  These  different  orders 
induced  the  philosopher  to  compare  the  soul  to  a 
small  republic,  of  which  the  reasoning  and  judging 
powers  were  stationed  in  the  head,  as  in  a  firm  cita- 
del, and  of  which  the  senses  were  the  guards  and  ser- 
vants. By  the  irascible  part  of  the  soul,  men  asserted 
their  dignity,  repelled  injuries,  and  scorned  danger; 


PLATO.  225 

and  the  concupiscible  part  provided  the  support  and 
the  necessities  of  the  body,  and,  when  governed  with 
propriety,  gave  rise  to  temperance.  Justice  was  pro- 
duced by  the  regular  dominion  of  reason,  and  by  the 
submission  of  the  passions  ;  and  prudence  arose  from 
the  strength,  acuteness,  and  perfection  of  the  soul, 
without  which  other  virtues  could  not  exist. 

But  amidst  all  this,  wisdom  was  not  easily  attained ; 
at  their  creation  all  minds  were  not  endowed  with 
the  same  excellence  ;  the  bodies  which  they  animated 
on  earth,  were  not  always  in  harmony  with  the  divine 
emanation ;  some  might  be  too  weak,  others  too 
strong.  On  the  first  years  of  a  man's  life  depended 
his  future  character;  an  effeminate  and  licentious 
education  seemed  calculated  to  destroy  the  purposes 
of  the  divinity,  while  the  contrary  produced  different 
effects,  and  tended  to  cultivate  and  improve  the  rea- 
soning and  judging  faculty,  and  to  produce  wisdom 
and  virtue. 

Plato  was  the  first  who  supported  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  upon  arguments  solid  and  permanent, 
deduced  from  truth  and  experience.  He  did  not 
imagine  that  the  diseases  and  death  of  the  body  could 
injure  the  principle  of  life,  and  destroy  the  soul, 
which,  of  itself,  was  of  divine  origin,  and  of  an  incor- 
rupted  and  immutable  essence,  which,  though  inhe- 
rent for  a  while  in  matter,  could  not  lose  that  power 
which  was  the  emanation  of  God.  From  doctrines 
like  these,  the  great  founder  of  Platonism  concluded 
that  there  might  exist  in  the  world  a  community  of 
men,  whose  passions  could  be  governed  with  modera- 
tion, and  who,  from  knowing  the  evils  and  miseries 

0 


226  '  PLATO. 

which  arise  from  ill  conduct,  might  aspire  to  excelr 
lence,  and  attain  that  perfection  which  can  be  derived 
from  a  proper  exercise  of  the  rational  and  moral  pow- 
ers. To  illustrate  this  more  fully,  the  philosopher 
wrote  a  book,  well  known  by  the  name  of  the  "  Re- 
public of  Plato,"  in  which  he  explains,  with  acuteness, 
judgment,  and  elegance,  the  rise  and  revolution  of 
civil  society ;  and  so  respected  was  his  opinion  as  a 
legislator,  that  his  scholars  were  employed  in  regu- 
lating the  republics  of  Arcadia. 

It  was  a  characteristic  of  Plato's  mind,  that  he 
united  a  subtle  intellect  to  a  glowing  fancy.  As  an 
illustration  of  his  style,  we  may-  mention  the  passage 
in  which  he  shows  the  operation  of  the  three  princi- 
ples in  the  human  being — mind,  soul,  and  body — or 
the  three  powers  of  intellect,  spirit,  and  matter.  It 
occurs  in  the  dialogue  of  Phsedrus,  where  he  endeav- 
ors to  illustrate  the  doctrine  that  the  mind  or  reason 
should  be  the  governing  faculty. 

The  soul  is  here  compared  to  a  chariot,  drawn  by 
a  pair  of  winged  steeds,  one  of  which  is  well-bred 
and  well-trained,  and  the  other  quite  the  contrary. 
The  quiet  horse,  the  Will,  is  obedient  to  the  rein, 
and  strives  to  draw  its  wilder  yoke-fellow,  the  Appe- 
tite, along  with  it,  and  to  induce  it  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  the  charioteer.  Reason.  But  they  have  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  with  the  restive  horse,  and  the 
whole  object  of  the  journey  seems  to  be  lost,  if  this 
is  permitted  to  have  its  way.  In  this  allegory,  it  is 
shown  that  the  object  of  Reason,  in  exacting  obedience, 
is  not  merely  that  discipline  and  subordination  which 
constitute  the  virtues  of  man,  but  to  keep  the  mind 


PLATO.  227 

in  a  state  to  rise  to  the  contemplation  and  enjoyment 
of  great  and  eternal  truths.  In  other  words,  a  man 
must  be  in  a  moral  state,  before  he  can  place  himself 
in  a  reli|^ious  state,  so  as  to  enjoy  the  summum  hoiium, 
or  greatest  good.  What,  then,  is  this  greatest  good? 
or,  in  the  language  of  Plato,  its  idea  ? — for,  with  him, 
idea  and  essence  are  synonymous.  This  is  God — 
not  his  image,  but  his  nature,  which  is  the  sovereign 
good.  Thus  the  greatest  happiness  of  man  was 
placed  by  Plato  in  a  mysterious  union  of  the  soul 
with  this  source  of  goodness.  How  near  an  approach 
to  Christian  communion  with  God,  is  this  ? 

However  fantastic  many  of  the  details  of  Plato's 
system  may  seem,  and  however  illusory  its  whole 
machinery  must  appear,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of 
modern  criticism,  one  thing  is  to  be  observed, — that 
the  great  results  of  his  philosophy  are  true.  He 
struggled  through  the  thick  mists  of  his  age,  and  dis- 
covered the  eternal  existence  of  Deity ;  he  perceived 
and  established,  on  grounds  not  to  be  controverted, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul.  He  placed  true  happi- 
ness where  philosophy  and  religion  place  it — in  the 
ascendency  of  the  spirit  over  the  body — the  sub- 
jugation of  the  passions  to  the  dominion  of  reason 
and  virtue.  It  appears  that  the  germs  of  these  great 
truths  had  already  manifested  themselves  in  the  minds 
of  Pythagoras,  Socrates,  and  others ;  and  Plato  bor- 
rowed from  them  many  of  his  noble  ideas.  But  he 
systematized  what  they  had  left  in  a  crude  state ;  he 
gave  a  more  clear  and  distinct  utterance  to  what  his 
great  master,  Socrates,  had  dimly  conceived,  and 
ineffectually  struggled  to  announce.     He  reached  the 


228 


PLA.TO. 


highest  point,  in  the  search  after  divine  knowledge, 
which  has  ever  been  attained,  without  the  direct  aid 
of  inspiration.  In  the  gradual  development  of  God's 
will  to  man,  he  was  one  of  the  great  instruments. 
Yet,  in  reviewing  his  works,  we  see  how  imperfect 
was  still  his  knowledge  of  things  divine,  and  what 
fearful  shadows  w^ould  rest  upon  the  world,  if  Plato 
were  our  only  guide.  How  dark,  uncertain,  myste- 
rious, would  be  the  ways  of  God — the  destinies  of 
man — if  left  where  the  philosopher  left  them ! 


SOCRATES. 


Socrates  was  born  at  Athens,  468  B.  C.  His 
father,  Sophroniscus,  was  a  sculptor  of  humble  repu- 
tation and  in  moderate  circumstances.  He  educated 
his  son  to  his  own  profession,  in  which  it  appears  that 
the  latter  made  considerable  proficiency.  He  did  not, 
however,  devote  himself  wholly  to  this  pursuit,  but 
spent  a  large  share  of  his  time  in  reading  the  works 
of  philosophers.  Crito,  an  intimate  friend,  supplied 
him  with  money  to  pay  the  masters  who  taught  him 
various  accomplishments,  and  he  became  an  auditor 


230  SOCRATES. 

of  most  of  the  ^eat  philosophers  who  visited  Athens, 
during  his  youth.  By  these  means,  he  received  the 
best  education  which  an  Athenian  youth  could  com- 
mand in  those  days. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  life,  he  wrought  at  his  trade, 
so  far  as  to  earn  a  decent  subsistence.  Receiving  a 
small  property  at  his  father's  death,  when  he  was 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  he  devoted  himself  entirely 
to  philosophical  pursuits.  His  habits  were  simple 
and  economical ;  his  dress  was  coarse,  and  he  seldom 
wore  shoes.  By  his  frugality,  he  was  thus  able  to 
live  without  labor,  and  yet  without  being  dependent 
upon  others. 

With  regard  to  his  public  life,  it  appears  that  he 
served  his  country  faithfully  as  a  soldier,  according  to 
the  duty  of  every  Athenian  citizen.  He  took  part  in 
three  campaigns,  displaying  the  greatest  hardihood 
and  valor.  He  endured,  without  repining,  hunger 
and  thirst,  heat  and  cold.  In  a  skirmish  with  the 
enemy,  his  pupil,  Alcibiades,  fell  wounded  in  the  midst 
of  the  enemy.  Socrates  rescued  him  and  carried  him 
off,  for  which  the  civic  crown  was  awarded  as  the 
prize  of  valor.  This  reward,  however,  he  transferred 
to  Alcibiades.  In  another  campaign  he  saved  the  life 
of  his  pupil,  Xenophon,  whom  he  carried  from  the 
field  on  his  shoulders,  fighting  his  way  as  he  went. 

At  the  age  of  sixty-five,  he  became  a  member  of 
the  council  of  Five  Hundred,  at  Athens.  He  rose 
also  to  the  dignity  of  president  of  that  body ;  by  vir- 
tue of  which  office,  he  for  one  day  managed  the  pop- 
ular assemblies  and  kept  the  key  of  the  citadel  and 
treasury.     Ten  naval  officers  had  been  accused  of 


SOCRATES.  231 

misconduct,  because,  after  the  battle  of  Arginusae, 
they  had  omitted  the  sacred  duty  of  burying  the  slain, 
in  consequence  of  a  violent  storm.  Their  enemies, 
finding  the  people  disposed  to  acquit  them,  procured 
by  intrigue,  the  prorogation  of  several  assemblies.  A 
new  assembly  was  held  on  the  day  when  Socrates 
was  president;  and  the  citizens,  instigated  by  bad 
men,  violently  demanded  that  sentence  of  death  should 
be  pronounced  on  all  the  accused  at  once,  contrary  to 
law.  But  the  menaces  of  violence  were  unable  to 
bend  the  inflexible  justice  of  Socrates,  and  he  was 
able  afterwards  to  declare,  on  his  own  trial,  that  ten 
innocent  men  had  been  saved  by  his  influence. 

When  Socrates  formed  the  resolution  of  devoting 
himself  to  the  pursuit  of  divine  and  human  knowledge, 
the  sophists,  a  set  of  arrogant  philosophers,  were  per- 
verting the  heads  and  corrupting  the  hearts  of  the 
Grecian  youth.  He  therefore  put  himself  in  opposi- 
tion to  these  false  guides,  and  went  about  endeavor- 
ing to  instruct  everybody  in  a  wiser  and  better  philos- 
ophy than  that  which  prevailed.  He  was,  in  fact,  an 
instructor  of  the  people ;  and,  believing  himself  an 
ambassador  of  God,  he  was  occupied  from  the  dawn 
of  day  in  seeking  persons  whom  he  might  teach 
either  what  is  important  to  mankind  in  general,  or 
the  private  circumstances  of  individuals.  He  went 
to  the  public  assemblies  and  the  most  crowded  streets, 
or  entered  the  workshops  of  mechanics  and  artists, 
and  conversed  with  the  people  on  religious  duties, 
on  their  social  and  political  relations ;  on  all  subjects, 
indeed,  relating  to  morals,  and  even  on  agriculture, 
war,  and  the  arts.     He  endeavored  to  remove  prevail- 


232  SOCRATES. 

ing  prejudices  and  errors,  and  to  subslitute  right  prin- 
ciples ;  to  awaken  their  better  geoius  in  the  minds  of 
his  hearers ;  to  encourage  and  console  them ;  to  en- 
lighten and  improve  mankind,  and  make  them  really 
happy. 

It  is  manifest  that  such  a  course  must  have  been 
attended  with  great  difficulties.  But  the  serenity  of 
Socrates  was  undisturbed ;  he  was  always  perfectly 
cheerful  in  appearance  and  conversation.  In  the 
market-place  and  at  home,  among  people  and  in  the 
society  of  those  whom  love  of  truth  and  virtue  con- 
nected more  closely  with  him,  he  was  always  the 
same.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  a  happy  physical 
and  mental  temperament  contributed  to  produce  this 
equanimity.  But  it  was,  likewise,  a  fruit  of  self-dis- 
cipline and  the  philosophy  he  taught.  He  treated  his 
body  as  a  servant,  and  inilred  it  to  every  privation,  so 
that  moderation  was  to  him  an  easy  virtue ;  and  he 
retained  in  old  age  his  youthful  vigor,  physical  and 
mental.  He  was  kind  as  a  husband  and  a  father. 
Though  his  wife,  Xantippe,  was  a  noted  shrew,  he 
viewed  her  as  an  excellent  instrument  of  discipline, 
and  treated  her  with  patience  and  forbearance. 

Although  the  Greeks  at  this  time  were  zealously 
devoted  to  their  heathen  mythology,  Socrates  was  a 
sincere  worshipper  of  the  Supreme  Being ;  yet,  from 
his  care  jiot  to  offend  his  weaker  brethren,  he  observ- 
ed, with  punctilious  exactness,  the  religious  uses 
which  antiquity  and  custom  had  consecrated.  He 
was  constantly  attended  by  a  circle  of  disciples,  who 
caught  from  him  the  spirit  of  free  inquiry,  anjd  were 
inspired  with  his  zeal  for  the  highest  good,  for*reli- 


SOCRATES.  233 

gion,  truth  and  virtue.  The  succeeding  schools  of 
philosophy  in  Greece  are  therefore  justly  traced  back 
to  him ;  and  he  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  master  who 
gave  philosophical  investigation  among  the  Greeks  its 
highest  direction.  Among  his  most  distinguished  dis- 
ciples were  Alcibiades,  Crito,  Xenophon,  Antisthenes, 
Aristippus,  Phoedon,  -^schines,  Cebes,  Euclid,  and 
Plato.  From  the  detached  accounts  given  us  by 
Xenophon  and  Plato,  it  appears  that  he  instructed 
them  in  politics,  rhetoric,  logic,  ethics,  arithmetic,  and 
geometry,  though  not  in  a  systematic  manner.  He 
read  with  them  the  principal  poets,  and  pointed  out 
their  beauties ;  he  labored  to  enlighten  and  correct 
their  opinions  on  all  practical  subjects,  and  to  excite 
them  to  the  study  of  whatever  is  most  important  to 
men. 

To  make  his  instructions  attractive,  they  were  de- 
livered, not  in  long  lectures,  but  in  free  conversations, 
rendered  interesting  by  question  and  answer.  He  did 
not  reason  before^  but  loith  his  disciples,  and  thus  ex- 
ercised an  irresistible  power  over  their  minds.  He 
obliged  them  to  think  for  themselves,  and  if  there  was 
any  capacity  in  a  man,  it  could  not  fail  to  be  excited 
by  his  conversation.  This  method  of  question  and 
answer  is  called  the  Socratic  method.  The  fragments 
of  his  conversations,  preserved  by  Xenophon,  often 
leave  us  unsatisfied  ;  Plato  alone  has  transmitted  to 
us  the  genuine  spirit  of  this  method  ;  and  he  was 
therefore  viewed  by  the  ancients  as  the  only  fountain 
of  the  Socratic  philosophy, — a  fact  which  has  been 
too  much  disregarded  by  modern  writers. 

Socrates  fell  a  victim  to  the  spirit  of  bigotry,  which 


/ 


234  SOCRATES.  , 

has  sacrificed  so  many  persons,  who  were  in  advance 
of  the  age.  The  document  containing  the  accusation 
against  him  was  lodged  in  the  Temple  of  Cybele,  as 
late  as  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era.  The 
following  is  a  translation  : — *'  Melitus,  son  of  Melilus,^ 
accuses  Socrates,  son  of  Sophroniscus,  of  being  guilty 
of  denying  the  existence  of  the  gods  of  the  republic, 
making  innovations  in  the  religion  of  the  Greeks, 
and  of  corrupting  the  Athenian  youth.  Penalty,-^ 
death." 

Melitus,  who  was  a  tragic  writer  of  a  low  order, 
was  engaged  as  an  accuser  in  this  affair,  by  the 
wealthy  and  more  powerful  enemies  of  Socrates. 
Amongst  them  were  Anytus  and  Lycon,  the  former  a 
rich  artisan  and  zealous  democrat,  who  had  rendered^ 
very  important  services  to  the  republic,  by  aiding 
Thrasybulus  in  the  expulsion  of  the  thirty  tyrants, 
and  in  establishing  the  liberty  of  his  country.  The 
latter  was  an  orator,  and  therefore  a  political  magis- 
trate, to  which  office  the  Athenian  orators  were  enti- 
tled, by  virtue  of  the  laws  of  Solon. 

Socrates  was  seventy  years  of  age  when  summoned 
to  appear  at  the  Areopagus.  The  news  of  this  event 
did  not  excite  much  surprise,  as  the  people  had  long 
expected  it.  Aristophanes,  the  celebrated  comic  poet 
of  Athens,  had  previously  undertaken,  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  Melitus,  to  ridicule  the  venerable  character  of 
the  philosopher ;  and  when  once  he  was  calumniated 
and  defamed,  the  fickle  populace  ceased  to  revere  the 
man  whom  they  had  before  looked  upon  as  a  being 
of  a  superior  order. 

The  enemies  of  Socrates  were  of  two  classes, — the 


SOCRATES.  235 

onexonsisted  of  citizens  who  could  not  help  admiring 
his  genius  and  virtue,  but  who  regarded  him  as  a 
dangerous  innovator  and  subverter  of  public  order. 
They  were  ready,  with  him,  to  acknowledge  that  some 
reformation  might  be  made  in  the  tenets  of  Paganism  ; 
that  the  gods  and  goddesses  Were  not  patterns  of 
virtue ;  'and  that  the  conduct  of  the  sovereign  of  the 
skies,  himself,  was  far  from  exemplary ;  but,  said 
th'fey,  {he  thunders  of  Jupiter  exercise  a  salutary  influ- 
ence over  the  minds  of  some,  and  the  pains  of  Tarta- 
rus still  operate  as  a  bridle  upon  the  passions  of  others. 
To  bring  in  question  .the  ancient  faith,  was  at  once  to 
attack  the  institutions  of  the  republic  at  their  base, 
and  excite  revolution.  The  philosophy  of  Socrates, 
even  though  true,  must  be  suppressed  ;  for  the  life  of 
one  man  is  not  to  be  put  in  the  balance  with  the 
repose  of  a  whole  people, — with  the  safety  of  the 
country.  It  is  better  that  Socrates  should  die,  than 
Athens  perish.  Such  was  the  reasoning  of  one  portion. 
The  other  class  was  composed  of  the  superstitious 
and  bigoted, — of  the  vicious  and  imbecile, — who  were 
daily  exposed  to  the  censures  and  sarcasms  of  the 
philosopher;  in  fine,  of  that  set  of  narrow,  jealous- 
minded  men,  who  looked  upon  the  welfare  and  fame 
of  their  neighbors  with  envy  and  with  malice.  The 
race  that  had  exiled  Aristides,  because  he  was  great, 
was  ready  to  condemn  Socrates,  because  he  was  wise. 
The  friends  and  disciples  of  the  great  philosopher 
saw  the  danger  that  menaced  him,  and  with  anxiety 
and  fear  they  crowded  around  their  master,  supplica- 
ting him  to  fly,  or  to  adopt  some  means  of  defence ; 
but  he  would  do  neither.     Lysias,  one  of  the  most 


236  SOCRATES. 

celebrated  orators  of  the  day,  composed  a  pathetic 
oration,  which  he  wished  his  friend  to  pronounce,  as 
his  defence,  in  the  presence  of  his  judges.  Socrates 
read  it,  praised  its  animated  and  eloquent  style,  but 
rejected  it,  as  being  neither  manly  nor  expressive  of 
fortitude.  The  anxiety  and  trouble  of  avoiding  con- 
demnation appeared  to  him  of  little  moment,  when 
compared  to  the  performance  of  his  duty  in  upholding 
to  the  last  moment,  the  truth  of  his  principles  and  the 
dignity  of  his  character. 

Socrates,  though  both  eloquent  and  persuasive  in 
conversation,  was  not  capable  of  addressing  a  large 
assembly ;  therefore,  on  the  day  of  his  trial,  he  asked 
permission  of  his  judges  to  use  the  means  of  defence 
to  which  he  had  been  accustomed ;  namely,  to  speak 
familiarly  with,  and  ask  questions  of,  his  adversaries. 

"  Athenians,"  he  said,  in  commencing,  "  I  hope  I 
shall  succeed  in  my  defence,  if,  by  succeeding,  good 
may  result  from  it ;  but  I  look  upon  my  success  as 
very  doubtful,  and,  therefore,  do  not  deceive  myself 
in  that  respect.  But  let  the  will  of  the  gods  be 
obeyed."  M 

The  two  chief  accusations  against  Socrates,  were, 
firstly,  that  he  did  not  believe  in  the  religion  of  the 
state  ;  secondly,  that  he  was  guilty  of  corrupting  the 
minds  of  young  men,  and  of  disseminating  the  disbe- 
lief of  the  established  religion. 

Socrates  did  not  reply,  in  a  direct  manner,  to  either 
of  these  charges.  Instead  of  declaring  that  he  be- 
lieved in  the  religion  of  his  country,  he  proved  that 
he  was  not  an  atheist ;  instead  of  refuting  the  charge 
of  instructing  youth  to  doubt  the  sacred  tenets  of  the 


SOCRATES.  237 

law,  he  declared  and  demonstrated  that  it  was  moral- 
ity which  he  taught;  and  instead  of  appealing  to  the 
compassion  of  his  judges,  he  did  not  disguise  the  con- 
tempt in  which  he  held  the  means  practised  by  parties 
accused,  who,  in  order  to  excite  sympathy  and  com- 
passion, brought  their  children  and  relations  to  sup- 
plicate, with  tears  in  their  eyes,  the  mercy  of  the 
judges.  "I,  also,  have  friends  and  relations!"  he 
said,  "  and,  as  to  children,  I  have  three, — one  a  strip- 
ling, the  other  two  in  childhood ;  yet  I  will  not 
allow  them  to  come  here  to  excite  your  sympathy. 
Why  will  I  not  do  so?  It  is  not  caused  by  stubborn- 
ness, nor  by  any  disdain  I  have  for  you.  For  my 
honor,  for  your  honor,  for  that  of  the  republic,  it  is  not 
meet  that,  with  the  reputation,  whether  true  or  false, 
that  I  have  acquired,  I  should  make  use  of  such 
means  to  procure  your  acquittal.  Indeed,  I  should  be 
ashamed  if  those  that  distinguish  themselves  for  wis- 
dom, courage,  or  any  other  virtue,  should,  like  many 
people  that  I  have  seen,  although  they  have  passed 
for  great  men,  commit  actions  the  most  grovelling — as 
if  death  were  the  greatest  misfortune  that  could  befall 
them,  and  that, — if  their  lives  were  spared, — they 
would  become  immortal !  " 

When  Socrates  had  ceased  speaking,  the  judges 
of  the  Areopagus  found  him  guilty,  by  a  majority  of 
three.  On  being  demanded,  according  to  the  spirit 
of  the  Athenian  laws,  to  pass  sentence  on  himself, 
and  to  mention  the  death  he  preferred,  Socrates,  con- 
scious of  his  own  innocence,  replied, — "  Far  from 
deeming  myself  guilty,  I  believe  that  I  have  rendered 
my  country  itnportant  services,  and,  therefore,  think 


233  SOCRATESr 

that  I  ought  to  be  maintained  in  the  Prytaneum  at  the 
public  expense,  during  the  remainder  of  my  life, — an 
honor,  0  Athenians,  that  I  merit  more  than  the  vic- 
tors of  the  Olympic  games.  They  make  you  happy 
in  appearance  ;  I  have  made  you  so  in  reality." 

This  reply  in  the  highest  degree  exasperated  his 
judges,  who  condemned  him  to  die  by  poison.  When 
the  sentence  was  passed,  Socrates  remained,  for  a 
few  minutes,  calm  and  undisturbed,  and  then  asked 
permission  to  speak  a  few  words. 

"  Athenians,"  he  said,  "your  want  of  patience  will 
be  used  as  a  pretext  by  those  who  desire  to  defame 
the  republic.  They  will  tell  you  that  you  have  put 
to  death  the  "wise  Socrates ;  yes,  they  will  call  me 
wise,  to  add  to  your  shame — though  I  am  not  so.  If 
you  had  but  waited  a  short  time,  death  would  have 
come  of  itself,  and  thus  saved  you  from  disgracing 
yourselves.  You  see  I  am  already  advanced  in  years, 
and  must  shortly  die.  All  know  that  in  times  of 
war,  nothing  is  more  easy  than  saving  our  lives  by 
throwing  do\\Ti  our  weapons,  and  demanding  quarter 
of  the  enemy.  It  is  the  same  in  all  dangers ;  a  thou- 
sand pretexts  can  be  found  by  those  who  are  not 
scrupulous  about  what  they  say  and  do.  It  is  diffi- 
cult, O  Athenians,  to  avoid  death;  but  it  is  much 
more  so  to  avoid  crime,  which  is  swifter  than  death. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that,  old  and  feeble  as  I  am,  I 
await  the  latter,  whilst  my  accusers,  who  are  more 
vigorous  and  volatile,  embrace  the  former.  I  am 
now  about  to  suffer  the  punishment  to  which  you 
have  sentenced  me ;  my  accusers,  tte  odium  and  in- 
famy to  which  virtue  condemns  them."* 


SOCRATES.  239 

"  What  is  going  to  happen  to  me,"  he  added,  "  will 
be  rather  an  advantage  than  an  evil ;  for  it  is  appa- 
rent, that  to  die  at  present,  and  to  be  delivered  of  the 
cares  of  this  life,  is  what  will  best  suit  me.  I  have 
no  resentment  towards  my  accusers,  neither  have  I 
any  ill-will  against  those  who  condemn  me,  although 
their  intention  was  to  injure  me,  to  do  all  in  their 
power  to  do  me  harm.  I  will  make  but  one  request ; 
when  my  children  are  grown  up,  if  they  are  seen  to 
covet  riches,  or  prefer  wealth  to  virtue,  punish  and 
torment  them  as  I  have  tormented  you ;  and  if  they 
look  upon  themselves  as  beings  of  importance,  make 
them  blush  for  their  presumption.  This  is  what  I 
have  done  to  you.  If  you  do  that,  you  will  secure 
the  gratitude  of  a  father,  and  my  children  will  ever 
praise  you.  But  it  is  time  that  we  should  separate ; 
I  go  to  die,  and  you  to  live.  Which  of  us  has  the 
best  portion  ?     No  one  knows  except  God." 

When  he  had  finished,  he  was  taken  to  prison  and 
loaded  with  chains.  His  execution  was  to  have  taken 
place  in  twenty-four  hours,  but  it  was  postponed  for 
thirty  days,  on  account  of  the  celebration  of  the  De- 
lian  festivals.  Socrates,  with  his  usual  cheerfulness 
and  serenity,  passed  this  time  in  conversing  with 
his  friends  upon  some  of  the  most  important  subjects 
that  could  engage  the  mind  of  man.  Plato  relates, 
in  the  dialogue  entitled  The  Phedon,  the  conversa- 
tion which  took  place  on  the  day  preceding  his  death. 
That  dialogue,  without  exception,  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful that  the  Greeks  have  left  us.  We  can  give  only 
those  passages  which  are  more  immediately  connected 
with  his  death. 


240  SOCRATES. 

"  After  the  condemnation  of  Socrates,"  says  Phe- 
don,  "  we  did  not  allow  a  day  to  escape  without  seeing 
him,  and  on  the  day  previous  to  his  death,  we  assem- 
bled earlier  than  usiial.  When  we  arrived  at  the 
prison  door,  the  jailor  told  us  to  wait  a  little,  as  the 
Eleven  were  then  giving  orders  for  the  death  of  Soc- 
rates." 

Speaking  of  the  fear  of  death,  Socrates  said,  "  As- 
suredly, my  dear  friends,  if  I  did  not  think  I  was 
going  to  find,  in  the  other  world,  gods  good  and  wise, 
and  even  infinitely  better  than  we  are,  it  would  be 
wrong  in  me  not  to  be  troubled  at  death ;  but  you 
must  know  that  I  hope  soon  to  be  introduced  to  virtu- 
ous men, — soon  to  arrive  at  the  assembly  of  the  just. 
Therefore  it  is  that  I  fear  not  death,  hoping,  as  I  do, 
according  to  the  ancient  faith  of  the  human  race,  that 
something  better  is  in  store  for  the  just,  than  what 
there  is  for  the  wicked." 

The  slave  who  was  to  give  Socrates  the  poison, 
warned  him  to  speak  as  little  as  possible,  because 
sometimes  it  was  necessary  to  administer  the  drug 
three  or  four  times  to  those  who  allowed  themselves 
to  be  overheated  by  conversation. 

"  Let  the  poison  be  prepared,"  said  Socrates,  ''  as 
if  it  were  necessary  to  give  it  two  or  three  times  ; " 
then  continued  to  discourse  upon  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  mixing  in  his  arguments  the  inspiration  of 
sentiment  and  of  poetry. 

"  Let  that  man,"  said  he,  "  have  confidence  in  his 
destiny,  who,  during  lifetime,  has  renounced  the 
pleasures  of  the  body  as  productive  of  evil.  He  who 
has  sought  the  pleasures  of  science,  who  has  beauti- 


SOCRATES.  241 

fied  his  soul,  not  with  useless  ornaments,  but  with 
what  is  suitable  to  his  nature,  such  as  temperance, 
justice,  fortitude,  liberty,  and  truth,  ought  to  wait 
peaceably  the  hour  of  his  departure,  and  to  be  always 
ready  for  the  voyage,  whenever  fate  calls  him." 

"  Alas !  my  dear  friend,"  said  Crito ;  '*  have  you 
any  orders  for  me,  or  for  those  present,  with  regard 
to  your  children  or  your  affairs  ? "  "  What  I  have 
always  recommended  to  you,  Crito," — replied  Socra- 
tes, *'  to  take  care  of  yourselves, — nothing  more.  By 
doing  so,  you  will  render  me  a  service,  my  family, 
and  ail  who  know  you." 

After  Socrates  had  bathed,  his  children  and  his  fe- 
male relations  were  brought  into  his  presence.  He 
spoke  to  them  for  some  time,  gave  them  his  orders, 
then  caused  them  to  retire.  After  he  returned,  he 
sat  down  upon  his  bed,  and  had  scarcely  spoken, 
when  the  officer  of  the  Eleven  came  in  and  said, 
"  Socrates,  I  hope  I  shall  not  have  the  same  occasion  to 
reproach  you  as  I  have  had  in  respect  to  others.  As 
soon  as  I  come  to  acquaint  them  that  they  must  drink 
the  poison,  they  are  incensed  against  me ;  but  you  have, 
ever  smce  you  came  here,  been  patient,  calm,  and 
even-tempered,  and  I  am  confident  that  you  are  not 
angry  with  me.  Now,  you  know  what  I  have  told 
you.  Farewell !  Try  to  bear  with  resignation  what 
cannot  be  avoided."  Saying  these  words,  he  turned 
away,  while  the  tears  were  streaming  from  his  eyes. 

"I  will  follow  your  counsel,"  said  Socrates.    Then 

turning  to  his  disciples,  he  continued,  *'  Observe  the 

honesty  of  that  poor  man.     During  my  imprisonment, 

he  has  visited  me  daily,  and  now,  see  with  what  sin- 

P 


242  SOCRATES. 

cerity  he  weeps  for  me  ! "  When  the  slave  brought 
the  poison  to  Socrates,  the  latter  looked  at  him,  and 
said,  "  Very  well,  my  friend,  what  must  I  do  ?  for 
you  know  best,  and  it  is  your  business  to  direct  me." 
"  Nothing  else  but  drink  the  poison ;  then  walk, 
and  when  you  find  your  limbs  grow  stiff,  lie  down 
upon  your  bed."  At  the  same  time,  he  handed  the 
cup  to  Socrates,  who  took  it  without  emotion  or 
change  of  countenance  ;  then  looking  at  the  man 
with  a  steady  eye,  he  said, — "  Tell  me,  is  it  allowable 
to  make  a  drink-offering  of  this  mixture  ?  "  "  Socra- 
tes," the  man  replied,  "  we  never  prepare  more  than 
what  is  sufficient  for  one  dose." 

*'  I  understand  you,"  said  Socrates ;  "  but  neverthe- 
less, it  is  lawful  for  me  to  pray  to  God  that  he  may 
bless  my  voyage,  and  render  it  a  happy  one."  Hav- 
ing said  so,  he  raised  the  cup  to  his  lips,  and  drank 
the  poison  with  astonishing  tranquillity  and  meekness. 
When  Socrates  looked  around  and  saw  his  friends 
vainly  endeavoring  to  stifle  their  tears,  he  said, 
"  What  are  you  doing,  my  companions  ?  Was  it  not 
to  avoid  this,  that  I  sent  away  the  women  ?  and  you 
have  fallen  into  their  weakness.  Be  quiet,  I  pray 
you,  and  show  more  fortitude." 

In  the  mean  time,  he  continued  to  walk,  and  when 
he  felt  his  legs  grow  stiff,  he  lay  down  upon  his  back, 
as  had  been  recommended.  The  person  who  gave 
Socrates  the  poison,  then  came  forward,  and,  after 
examining  his  legs  and  feet,  he  bound  them,  and 
asked  if  he  felt  the  cord.  The  dying  philosopher  an- 
swered, "  No ;"  and  feeling  himself  with  his  hand, 


SOCRATES. 


243 


he  told  his  disciples,  that  "  when  the  cold  reached  his 
heart,  he  should  leave  them." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards,  he  exclaimed,  "  Crito, 
we  owe  a  cock  to  Esculapius ;  do  not  forget  to  pay 
the  debt."  These  were  the  last  words  of  Socrates. 
Such  was  the  end  of  the  great  philosopher ;  and  it 
may  be  truly  said  that  he  was  one  of  the  wisest,  best, 
and  most  upright  of  all  the  Athenians. 

In  personal  appearance  Socrates  Avas  disagreeable : 
he  had  a  sunken  nose,  and  his  eyes  protruded  so  as 
to  give  him  a  strange  appearance.  It  is  supposed 
tbat  he  knew  the  shrewish  temper  of  Xantippe,  before 
he  married  her,  and  sought  the  alliance  that  she 
might  give  exercise  to  his  patience.  She  tried 
every  means  to  irritate  him,  and  finding  it  impossible 
to  rouse  his  anger,  she  poured  some  dirty  water  upon 
him  from  a  window.  "  After  thunder,  we  generally 
have  rain,"  was  the  only  remark  the  philosopher 
deigned  to  make.  Many  other  anecdotes  are  handed 
down,  which  show  the  wonderful  command  Socrates 
had  acquired  over  himself. 


ALCIBIADES. 


This  eminent  Athenian  general  and  statesman,  was 
born  about  450  B.  C.  Descended  on  both  sides  from 
the  most  illustrious  families  of  his  country, — ^born  to 
the  inheritance  of  great  wealth, — endued  with  great 
personal  beauty  and  the  most  brilliant  mental  quali- 
ties,— it  seemed  evident,  from  his  early  youth,  that  he 
would  exert  no  slight  influence  over  the  counsels  and 
fortunes  of  Athens.  His  father,  Cleinias,  was  killed 
at  the  battle  of  Cheronsea,  and  being  thus  an  orphan, 
he  was  placed  under  the  wardship  of  his  uncle,  Per- 


ALCIBIADES.  245 

icles.  The  latter  was  too  much  engaged  in  affairs 
of  state  to  bestow  that  care  upon  Alcibiades,  which 
the  impetuosity  of  his  disposition  required.  In  his 
childhood  he  showed  the  germ  of  his  future  character. 
One  day,  when  he  was  playing  at  dice  with  some 
companions  in  the  street,  a  wagon  came  up ;  he  re- 
quested the  driver  to  stop,  and,  the  latter  refusing, 
Alcibiades  threw  himself  before  the  wheel,  exclaim- 
ing, *'  Drive  on,  if  thou  darest ! " 

He  excelled  alike  in  mental  and  bodily  exercises. 
His  beauty  and  birth,  and  the  high  station  of  Pericles, 
procured  him  a  multitude  of  friends  and  admirers, 
and  his  reputation  was  soon  injured  by  the  dissipation 
in  which  he  became  involved.  He  was  fortunate  in 
acquiring  the  friendship  of  Socrates,  who  endeavored 
to  lead  him  to  virtue,  and  undoubtedly  obtained  a 
great  ascendency  over  him,  so  that  Alcibiades  often 
quitted  his  gay  associates  for  the  company  of  the 
philosopher. 

He  bore  arms,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  expedition 
against  PotidoBa  and  was  wounded.  Socrates,  who 
fought  at  his  side,  defended  him,  and  led  him  out  of 
danger.  In  the  battle  of  Delium,  he  was  among  the 
cavalry  who  were  victorious,  but,  the  infantry  being 
beaten,  he  was  obliged  to  flee,  as  well  as  the  rest. 
He  overtook  Socrates,  who  was  retreating  on  foot. 
Alcibiades  accompanied  him,  and  protected  him. 

For  a  considerable  time  he  took  no  part  in  public 
affairs,  but  on  the  death  of  Cleon,  422  B.  C,  Nicias 
succeeded  in  making  a  peace  for  fifty  years,  between 
the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians.  Alcibiades,  jeal- 
ous of  the  influence  of  Nicias,  and  offended  because 


246 


ALCIBIADES. 


Socrates  saving  Alcibiades. 

the  Lacedaemonians,  with  whom  he  was  connected  by 
the  ties  of  hospitality,  had  not  applied  to  him,  sought 
to  bring  about  some  disagreement  between  the  two 
nations.  The  Lacedaemonians  sent  ambassadors  to 
Athens.  Alcibiades  received  them  with  apparent 
good-will,  and  advised  them  to  conceal  their  creden- 
tials, lest  the  Athenians  should  prescribe  conditions 
to  them.  They  suffered  themselves  to  be  duped,  and, 
when  called  into  the  assembly,  declared  that  they 
were  without  credentials.  Alcibiades  rose  immedi- 
ately, stated  that  they  had  credentials,  accused  them 
of  ill-faith,  and  induced  the  Athenians  to  form  an 


ALCIBIADES.  247 

alliance  with  the  Argives.  A  breach  with  the  Lace- 
dsemonians  was  the  immediate  consequence.  Alci- 
biades  commanded  the  Athenian  fleet  several  times 
during  the  war,  and  devastated  the  Peloponnesus. 

He  did  not,  however,  refrain  from  luxury  and  dis- 
sipation, to  which  he  abandoned  himself  after  his 
return  from  the  wars.  On  one  occasion,  after  having 
a  nocturnal  revel,  in  the  company  of  some  friends,  he 
laid  a  wager  that  he  would  give  Hipponicus  a  box  on 
the  ear;  which  he  did.  This  act  made  a  great-noise 
in  the  city,  but  Alcibiades  went  to  the  injured  party, 
threw  off  his  garments,  and  called  upon  him  to  re- 
venge himself  by  whipping  him  with  rods.  This 
open  repentance  reconciled  Hipponicus,  who  not  only 
pardoned  him,  but  gave  him  afterwards  his  daughter, 
Hipparete,  in  marriage,  with  a  portion  of  ten  talents — 
about  ten  thousand  dollars.  Alcibiades,  however,  still 
continued  his  levity  and  prodigality.  His  extrava- 
gance was  conspicuous  at  the  Olympic  games,  where 
he  entered  the  stadium,  not  like  other  rich  men,  with 
one  chariot,  but  with  seven  at  a  time — and  gained  the 
V  three  first  prizes.  He  seems  also  to  have  been  victor 
in  the  Pythian  and  Nemsean  games.  By  these 
courses  he  drew  upon  himself  the  hatred  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  and  he  would  have  fallen  a  sacrifice  to  the 
ostracism,  if  he  had  not,  in  connection  with  Nicias  and 
Phseax,  who  feared  a  similar  fate,  artfully  contrived  to 
procure  the  banishment  of  his  most  formidable  enemy. 
Soon  afterwards,  the  Athenians,  at  the  instance  of 
Alcibiades,  resolved  on  an  expedition  against  Sicily, 
and  elected  him  commander-in-chief,  together  with 
Nicias  and  Lamachus.     But,  during  the  preparations, 


248  ,  ALCIBIADES.      , 

it  happened  one  night  that  all  the  statues  of  Mercury 
were  broken.  The  enemies  of  Alcibiades  charged 
him  with  the  act,  but  postponed  a  public  accusation 
till  he  had  set  sail,  when  they  stirred  up  the  people 
against  him  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  was  recalled  in 
order  to  be  tried.  Alcibiades  had  been  very  success- 
ful in  Sicily,  when  he  received  the  order  to  return. 
He  prepared  to  obey,  and  embarked,  but  on  reaching 
Thurium,  he  landed,  and,  instead  of  proceeding  to 
Athens,  concealed  himself.  Some  one  asking  him, 
"  How  is  this,  Alcibiades  ?  Have  you  no  confidence 
in  your  country?" — he  replied,  "I  would  not  trust 
my  mother  when  my  life  is  concerned,  for  she  might, 
by  mistake,  take  a  black  stone  instead  of  a  white  one." 
He  was  condemned  to  death  in  Athens.  When  the 
news  reached  him,  he  remarked — "  I  shall  show  the 
Athenians  that  I  am  yet  alive." 

He  now  went  to  Argos ;  thence  to  Sparta,  w^here  he 
made  himself  a  favorite  by  conforming  closely  to  the 
prevailing  strictness  of  manners.  Here  he  succeeded 
in  inducing  the  Lacedaemonians  to  form  an  alliance 
with  the  Persian  king,  and,  after  the  unfortunate  issue 
of  the  Athenian  expedition  against  Sicily,  he  prevailed 
on  the  Spartans  to  assist  the  inhabitants  of  Chios  in 
throwing  off  the  yoke  of  Athens.  He  went  himself 
thither,  and  on  his  arrival  in  Asia  Minor,  roused  the 
whole  of  Ionia  to  insurrection  against  the  Athenians, 
and  did  them  considerable  injury.  But  Agis  and  the 
principal  leaders  of  the  Spartans  became  jealous  of 
him,  on  account  of  hi^  success,  and  ordered  their 
commanders  in  Asia  to  cause  him  to  be  assassinated. 

Alcibiades  suspect  their  plan,  and  went  to  Tissa- 


ALCIBIADES.  249 

phernes,  a  Persian  satrap,  who  was  ordered  to  act  in 
concert  with  the  Lacedaemonians.  Here  he  changed 
his  manners  once  more,  adopted  the  luxurious  hahiis 
of  Asia,  and  soon  contrived  to  make  himself  indispen- 
sable to  the  satrap.  As  he  could  no  longer  trust  the 
Lacedaemonians,  he  undertook  to  serve  his  country, 
and  showed  Tissaphernes  that  it  was  against  the  in- 
terest of  the  Persian  king  to  weaken  the  Athenians ; 
on  the  contrary,  Sparta  and  Athens  ought  to  be  pre- 
served for  their  mutual  injury.  Tissaphernes  followed 
this  advice,  and  afforded  the  Athenians  some  relief. 
The  latter  had,  at  that  time,  considerable  forces  at 
Samos.  Alcibiades  sent  word  to  their  commanders, 
that,  if  the  licentiousness  of  the  people  was  suppressed 
and  the  government  put  into  the  hands  of  the  nobles, 
he  would  procure  for  them  the  friendship  of  Tissa- 
phernes, and  prevent  the  junction  of  the  Phoenician 
and  Lacedaemonian  fleets. 

This  demand  was  acceded  to,  and  Pisander  was  sent 
to  Athens ;  by  whose  means  the  government  of  the  city 
was  put  into  the  hands  of  a  council,  consisting  of  four 
hundred  persons.  As,  however,  the  council  showed 
no  intention  of  recalling  Alcibiades,  the  army  of  Sa- 
mos chose  him  their  commander,  and  exhorted  him 
to  go  directly  to  Athens  and  overthrow  the  power  of 
the  tyrants.  He  wished,  however,  not  to  return  to  his 
country  before  he  had  rendered  it  some  services  ;  and 
therefore  attacked  and  totally  defeated  the  Lacedae- 
monians. When  he  returned  to  Tissaphernes,  the 
latter,  in  order  not  to  appear  a  participator  in  the  act, 
caused  him  to  be  arrested  in  Sardis.  But  Alcibiades 
found  means  to  escape ;  placed  himself  at  the  head 


250  ALCIBIADES. 

of  the  Athenian  army ;  conquered  the  Lacedaemoni- 
ans and  Persians,  at  Cyzicus,  by  sea  and  land ;  took 
Cyzicus,  Chalcedon,  and  Byzantium ;  restored  the 
sovereignty  of  the  sea  to  the  Athenians,  and  returned 
to  his  country,  whither  he  had  been  recalled,  on  the 
motion  of  Critias. 

He  was  received  with  general  enthusiasm  ;  for  the 
Athenians  considered  his  exile  as  the  cause  of  all 
their  misfortunes.  But  this  triumph  was  of  short 
duration.  He  was  sent  with  one  hundred  ships  to 
Asia ;  and,  not  being  supplied  with  money  to  pay  his 
soldiers,  he  saw  himself  under  the  necessity  of  seek- 
ing help  in  Caria,  and  committed  the  command  to 
Antiochus,  who  was  drawn  into  a  snare  by  Lysander, 
and  lost  his  life  and  a  part  of  his  ships.  The  ene- 
mies of  Alcibiades  improved  this  opportunity  to  accuse 
him,  and  procure  his  removal  from  office. 

Alcibiades  now  went  to  Pactyae  in  Thrace,  collected 
troops,  and  waged  war  against  the  Thracians.  He 
obtained  considerable  booty,  and  secured  the  quiet  of 
the  neighboring  Greek  cities.  The  Athenian  fleet 
was,  at  that  time,  lying  at  jEgos  Potamos.  He  point- 
ed out  to  the  generals  the  danger  which  threatened 
them,  advised  them  to  go  to  Sestos,  and  offered  his 
assistance  to  force  the  Lacedsemonian  general,  Lysan- 
der, either  to  fight,  or  to  make  peace.  But  they  did 
not  listen  to  him,  and  soon  after  were  totally  defeated. 
Alcibiades,  fearing  the  power  of  the  Lacedaemonians, 
betook  himself  to  Bithynia,  and  was  about  to  go  to 
Artaxerxes,  to  procure  his  assistance  for  his  country. 
In  the  meantime,  the  thirty  tyrants,  whom  Lysander, 
after  the  capture  of  Athens,  had  set  up  there,  requested 


?* 


ALCIBIADES.  251 

the  latter  to  cause  Alcibiades  to  be  assassinated. 
But  Lysander  declined,  until  he  received  an  order  to- 
the  same  effect  from  his  own  government.  He  then 
charged  Pharnabazes  with  the  execution  of  it.  Alci- 
biades was  at  the  time  with  Timandra,  his  mistress, 
in  a  castle  in  Phrygia.  The  assistants  of  Pharnaba- 
zes, afraid  to  encounter  Alcibiades,  set  fire  to  his 
house,  and  when  he  had  already  escaped  the  confla- 
gration, they  despatched  him  with  their  arrows.  Ti- 
mandra buried  the  body  with  due  honor. 

Thus  Alcibiades  ended  his  life,  404  B.  C,  being- 
about  forty-five  years  old.  He  was  endowed  by  nature 
with  distinguished  qualities,  a  rare  talent  to  captivate 
and  rule  mankind,  and  uncommon  eloquence,  although 
he  could  not  pronounce  the  letter  ?',  and  had  an  im- 
pediment in  his  speech.  He  had,  however,  no  fixed 
principles,  and  was  governed  only  by  external  circum- 
stances. He  was  without  that  elevation  of  soul  which 
steadily  pursues  the  path  of  virtue.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  possessed  that  boldness  which  arises  from 
consciousness  of  superiority,  and  which  shrinks  from 
no  difficulty,  because  confident  of  success.  He  was 
a  singular  instance  of  intellectual  eminence  and  moral 
depravity.  His  faculty  for  adapting  himself  to  cir- 
cumstances enabled  him  to  equal  the  Spartans  in 
austerity  of  manners,  and  to  surpass  the  pomp  of  the 
Persians.  Plutarch  says,  that  "  no  man  was  of  sa 
sullen  a  nature  but  he  would  make  him  merry ;  nor 
so  churlish  but  he  could  make  him  gentle." 


DEMOCRITUS. 


Democritus,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  the 
philosophers  of  antiquity,  was  born  at  Abdera,  a  mari- 
tim(^  city  of  Thrace,  460  B.  C.  He  travelled  over 
the  greatest  part  of  Europe,  Asia  and  Africa,  in  quest 
of  knowledge.  Though  his  father  was  so  rich  as  to 
entertain  Xerxes  and  his  whole  army,  while  marching 
against  Greece,  and  left  his  son  a  large  fortune,  yet 
the  latter  returned  from  his  travels  in  a  state  of  pov- 
erty. It  was  a  law  of  the  country,  that  a  man  should 
be  deprived  of  the  honor  of  a  funeral,  who  had  re- 
duced himself  to  indigence.  Democritus  was  of 
course  exposed  to  this  ignominy;  but  having  read 
before  his  countrymen  his  chief  work,  it  was  received 
with  the  greatest  applause,  and  he  was  presented  with 
five  hundred  talents, — a  sum  nearly  equal  to  half  a 
million  of  dollars.  Statues  were  also  erected  to  his 
honor ;  and  a  decree  was  passed  that  the  expenses  of 
his  funeral  should  be  paid  from  the  public  treasury. 

These  circumstances  display  alike  the  great  emi- 
nence of  the  philosopher,  and  an  appreciation  of  genius 
and  learning  on  the  part  of  the  people,  beyond  what 
could  now  be  found  in  the  most  civilized  communities 
of  the  world.  Where  is  the  popular  assembly  of  the 
present  day,  that  would  bestow  such  a  reward,  on 
such  an  occasion  ? 


DEMOCRITUS.  -  253, 

After  his  return  from  his  travels,  Democritiis  re- 
tired to  a  garden  near  the  city,  where  he  dedicated 
his  time  to  study  and  solitude  ;  and,  according  to  some 
authors,  put  out  his  eyes,  to  apply  hime^etf  more  closely 
to  philosophical  inquiries.  This,- however,  is  unwor- 
thy of  credit.  He  was  accused  of  insanity,  and  Hip- 
pocrates, a  celebrated  physician,  was  ordered  to 
inquire  into  the  nature  of  his  disorder.  After  a  con- 
ference with  the  philosopher,  he  declared  that  not 
the  latter,  but  his  enemies  were  insane.  Democritus 
was  so  accustomed  to  laugh  at  the  follies  and  vanities 
of  mankind,  who  distract  themselves  with  care,  and 
are  at  once  the  prey  to  hope  and  anxiety,  that  he 
acquired  the  title  of  the  "  laughing  philosopher,"  in 
contrast  to  Heraclitus,'^  who  has  been  called  the  "  weep- 
ing philosopher."  He  told  Darius,  the  king,  who 
was  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  his  wife,  that  he  would 
raise  her  from  the  dead  if  he  could  find  three  persons 
who  had  gone  through  life  without  adversity,  and 

*Heraclitus  flourished  about  500  years  B.  C.  He  was  a 
native  of  Ephesusj  and  being  of  a  melancholy  disposition,  he 
spent  his  time  in  mourning  and  weeping  over  the  frailties  of 
human  nature,  and  the  miseries  of  human  life.  He  employed 
himself  for  a  time,  in  writing  different  treatises,  in  which  he 
maintained  that  all  things  are  governed  by  a  fatal  necessity. 
His  opinions,  in  some  things,  were  adopted  by  the  Stoics.  He 
became  at  last  a  man-hater,  and  retired  to  the  mountains,  so 
as  to  be  entirely  separated  from  his  fellow-men.  Here  he  fed 
on  grass,  which  brought  on  a  dropsical  complaint :  to  get  cured 
of  this,  he  returned  to  the  town.  He  established  his  residence 
on  a  dunghill,  hoping  that  the  warmth  might  dissipate  his 
disease  j  but  this  proved  ineffectual,  and  he  died  in  his  sixtieth 
year. 


254  DEMOCRITUS. 

whose  names  he  might  engrave  on  the  queen's  monu- 
ment. The  king's  inquiries  after  such,  proved  una- 
vailing, and  the  philosopher  discovered  the  means  of 
soothing  the  sorrows  of  the  sovereign. 

He  was  a  disbeliever  in  the  existence  of  ghosts ; 
and  some  youths,  to  try  his  fortitude,  dressed  them- 
selves in  hideous  and  deformed  habits,  and  approached 
his  cave  in  the  dead  of  night,  expecting  to  excite  his 
terror  and  astonishment.  The  philosopher  received 
them  unmoved,  and,  without  hardly  deigning  to  bestow 
upon  them  a  look,  desired  them  to  cease  making 
themselves  such  objects  of  ridicule  and  folly.  He 
died  in  the  one  hundred  and  fourth  year  of  his  age, 
B.  C.  357. 

All  the  works  of  Democritus,  w^hich  were  numerous, 
are  lost.  He  was  the  first  to  teach  that  the  milky 
way  was  occasioned  by  a  confused  light  from  a  multi- 
tude of  stars.  He  may  be  considered  as  the  parent 
of  experimental  philosophy;  in  the  prosecution  of 
which  he  was  so  ardent,  that  he  declared  he  would 
prefer  the  discovery  of  one  of  the  causes  of  the  works 
of  nature,  to  the  diadem  of  Persia.  He  is  said  to 
have  made  artificial  emeralds  by  chemical  means, 
and  to  have  tinged  them  with  various  colors ;  he  like- 
wise found  the  art  of  dissolving  stones  and  softening 
ivory. 

He  was  the  author  of  the  atomic  theory ;  he  viewed 
all  matter,  in  which  he  included  mind,  as  reducible 
to  atoms ;  he  considered  the  universe  to  consist  only 
of  matter  and  empty  space.  The  mind  he  regarded 
as  round  atoms  of  fire.  He  argued  that  nothing  could 
arise  out  of  nothing;  and  also  that  nothing  could 


DEMOCRITUS. 


255 


utterly  perish,  and  become  nothing.  Hence  he  in- 
ferred the  eternity  of  the  universe,  and  dispensed  with 
the  existence  of  a  Creator. 

He  explained  the  difference  in  substances  by  a 
difference  in  their  component  atoms  ;  and  all  material 
phenomena,  by  different  motions,  backward  or  for- 
ward, taking  place  of  necessity.  He  did  not  seem  to 
perceive  that  under  this  word,  necessity,  he  concealed 
a  deity.  He  explained  sensation  by  supposing  sensi- 
ble images  to  issue  from  bodies.  In  moral  philosophy, 
he  only  taught  that  a  cheerful  state  of  mind  was  the 
greatest  attainable  good. 

The  theories  of  Democritus  appear  absurd  enough 
in  our  time ;  but  philosophy  was  then  in  its  infancy. 
His  struggles  after  light  and  truth  display  the  dark- 
ness of  the  age,  and  the  ingenuity  of  the  philosopher. 
They  may  also  teach  us  by  what  a  process  of  mental 
toil,  for  centuries  piled  upon  centuries,  the  knowledge 
we  possess  has  been  attained.  The  school  he  estab- 
lished, was  supplanted,  about  a  century  after,  by  that 
of  Epicurus. 


PERICLES. 


This  celebrated  man,  born  about  498  B.  C,  was  an 
Athenian  of  noble  birth,  son  of  Xantippus  and  Aga- 
riste.  He  was  endowed  by  nature  with  great  powers, 
which  he  improved  by  attending  the  lectures  of  Da- 
mon, Zeno,  and  Anaxagoras.  Under  these  celebrated 
masters,  he  became  a  commander,  a  statesman,  and  an 
orator,  and  gained  the  affections  of  the  people  by  his 
great  address,  and  well-directed  liberality.    When  he 


PERICLES.  257 

took  a  share  in  the  administration  of  public  affairs,  he 
rendered  himself  popular  by  opposing  Cimon,  who 
was  the  favorite  of  the  nobility ;  and,  to  remove  every 
obstacle  which  stood  in  the  way  of  his  ambition,  he 
lessened  the  dignity  and  the  power  of  the  court  of 
Areopagus,  whom  the  people  had  been  taught  for  ages 
to  respect  and  venerate. 

He  continued  his  attacks  upon  Cimon,  and  finally 
caused  him  to  be  banished  by  the  ostracism.  Thucy- 
dides  also,  who  had  succeeded  Cimon  on  his  banish- 
ment, shared  the  same  fate,  and  Pericles  remained, 
for  fifteen  years,  the  sole  minister,  and,  as  it  may  be 
said,  the  absolute  sovereign  of  a  republic  which  always 
showed  itself  so  jealous  of  her  liberties,  and  which 
distrusted  so  much  the  honesty  of  her  magistrates. 
In  his  ministerial  capacity,  Pericles  did  not  enrich 
himself,  but  the  prosperity  of  Athens  was  the  object 
of  his  administration.  He  made  war  against  the 
Lacedaemonians,  and  restored  the  temple  of  Delphi  to 
the  care  of  the  Phocians,  who  had  been  illegally  de- 
prived of  that  honorable  trust. 

He  obtained  a  victory  over  the  Sicyonians  near 
Nemaea,  and  waged  a  successful  war  against  the  in- 
habitants of  Samos.  The  Peloponnesian  war  was 
fomented  by  his  ambitious  views,  and  when  he  had 
warmly  represented  the  flourishing  state,  the  opulence 
and  actual  power  of  his  country,  the  Athenians  did 
not  hesitate  to  undertake  a  war  against  the  most  pow- 
erful republics  of  Greece — a  war  which  continued  for 
twenty-seven  years,  and  was  concluded  by  the  de- 
struction of  their  empire  and  the  demolition  of  their 
walls.  The  arms  of  the  Athenians  were,  for  some 
Q 


258  PERICLES. 

time,  crowned  with  success ;  but  an  unfortunate  ex- 
pedition raised  clamors  against  Pericles,  and  the 
enraged  populace  attributed  all  their  losses  to  him. 
To  make  atonement  for  their  ill-success,  they  con- 
demned him  to  pay  fifty  talents. 

The  loss  of  popular  favor  did  not  so  much  affect 
Pericles,  as  the  death  of  all  his  children.  When  the 
tide  of  disaffection  had  passed  away,  he  condescended 
to  come  into  the  public  assembly,  and  viewed  with 
secret  pride  the  contrition  of  his  fellow-citizens,  who 
universally  begged  his  forgiveness  for  the  violence 
which  they  had  offered  to  his  ministerial  character. 
He  was  again  restored  to  all  his  honors,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, invested  with  more  power  and  more  authority 
than  before;  but  the  dreadful  pestilence  which  had 
diminished  the  number  of  his  family,  and  swept  away 
many  of  his  best  friends,  proved  fatal  to  himself,  and 
about  429  years  B.  C,  in  his  seventieth  year,  he  fell 
a  sacrifice  to  that  terrible  malady  which  robbed  Athens 
of  so  many  of  her  citizens. 

Pericles  was  forty  years  at  the  head  of  the  admin- 
istration; twenty-five  years  with  others,  and  fifteen 
alone.  The  flourishing  state  of  the  country  under 
his  government,  gave  occasion  to  the  Athenians  pub- 
licly to  lament  his  loss  and  venerate  his  memory. 
As  he  was  expiring  and  apparently  senseless,  his 
friends,  that  stood  around  his  bed,  expatiated  with 
warmth  on  the  most  glorious  actions  of  his  life,  and 
the  victories  which  he  had  won — when  he  suddenly 
interrupted  their  tears  and  conversation,  by  saying, 
that  in  mentioning  the  exploits  he  had  achieved, 
and  which  were  common  to  him  with  all  generals, 


PERICLES.  259 

they  had  forgotten  to  mention  a  circumstance,  which 
reflected  far  greater  glory  on  him  as  a  minister,  a 
general,  and  above  all,  as  a  man :  "  It  is,"  said  he, 
"  that  not  a  citizen  in  Athens  has  been  obliged  to  put 
on  rnourning  on  my  account." 

The  Athenians  were  so  affected  by  his  eloquence 
that  they  compared  it  to  thunder  and  lightning,  and, 
as  if  he  were  another  father  of  the  gods,  they  gave 
him  the  title  of  Olympian.  The  poets  said  that  the 
goddess  of  persuasion,  with  all  her  charms  and  at- 
tractions, dwelt  upon  his  tongue.  When  he  marched 
at  the  head  of  the  Athenian  armies,  he  observed  that 
he  had  the  command  of  a  free  nation,  who  were  Greeks 
and  citizens  of  Athens.  He  also  declared  that  not 
only  the  hand  of  a  magistrate,  but  also  his  eyes  and 
his  tongue,  should  be  pure  and  undefiled.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  Pericles  was  one  of  the  most  elo- 
quent orators  and  sagacious  statesmen  of  Greece. 

Yet,  great  and  venerable  as  his  character  may  ap- 
pear, we  must  not  forget  his  follies.  His  vicious  par- 
tiality for  the  celebrated  courtesan,  Aspasia,  justly 
subjected  him  to  the  ridicule  and  censure  of  his  fel- 
low-citizens. The  greatness  of  his  talents  and  his 
services,  enabled  him  to  triumph  over  satire  and  re- 
proach for  the  time,  but  the  Athenians  had  occasion 
to  execrate  the  memory  of  a  man,  who,  by  his  exam- 
ple, corrupted  the  purity  and  innocence  of  their  mor- 
als, and  who,  associating  licentiousness  with  talents 
and  public  virtue,  rendered  it  almost  respectable. 

Pericles  lost  all  his  legitimate  children  by  the  pes- 
tilence already  mentioned ;  and  to  call  a  natural  son 
by  his  own  name,  he  was  obliged  to  repeal  a  law 


260 


PERICLES. 


which  he  had  made  against  spurious  children,  and 
which  he  had  enforced  with  great  severity.  This 
son,  named  Pericles,  became  one  of  the  ten  generals 
who  succeeded  Alcibiades  in  the  administration  of 
affairs,  and,  like  his  colleagues,  he  was  condemned 
to  death  by  the  Athenians,  after  the  unfortunate  battle 
of  Arginusae. 


ARISTIDES. 


This  great  Athenian  general  and  statesman,  who 
took  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the  deliverance  of  Greece 
from  the  Persians,  and  who  has  come  down  to  us  with 
the  enviable  surname  of  The  Just,  was  the  son  of 
Lysimachus  and  born  about  the  year  550  B.  C.  We 
know  little  of  the  steps  by  which  he  rose  to  eminence. 
He  was  one  of  the  ten  generals  of  the  Athenian  forces, 
when  they  fought  with  the  Persians  at  Marathon.  Ac- 
cording to  the  custom,  each  general  held  command  of 
the  army  for  one  day,  in  rotation.  Aristides,  perceiv- 
ing the  disadvantages  of  this  system,  prevailed  on  his 


262 


ARISTIDES. 


colleagues  to  give  up  their  command  to  Miltiades. 
To  this,  in  a  great  measure,  must  be  attributed  the 
memorable  victory  of  the  Greeks  upon  that  occasion. 

The  year  after  this,  Aristides  was  archon ;  and  the 
ambitious  Themistocles,  desiring  to  get  rid  of  him, 
privately  circulated  a  charge  that  Aristides  was  aim- 
ing at  sovereign  power.  He  succeeded  finally  in 
causing  him  to  be  exiled  by  the  ostracism — a  vote  of 
banishment,  in  which  the  Athenians  used  shells  for  bal- 
lots. While  the  voting,  upon  this  occasion,  was  going 
on,  Aristides  was  among  the  people  ;  a  rustic  citizen, 
who  did  not  know  him,  came  up  and  asked  him  to 
write  the  name  of  Aristides  upon  the  shell  with  which 
he  intended  to  vote.  "  Has  he  ever  injured  you  ?  " 
said  Aristides.  "  No,"  said  the  voter,  "  but  I  am  tired 
of  hearing  him  called  the  *  Just ! '  " 

Aristides  left  Athens,  with  prayers  for  its  welfare. 
He  was  recalled  at  the  end  'of  three  years,  and,  for- 
getting his  injury,  devoted  himself  with  ardor  and 
success  to  the  good  of  his  country.  In  the  famous 
battle  of  Platea,  he  commanded  the  Athenians,  and 
is  entitled  to  a  great  share  of  the  merit  of  the  splendid 
victory  gained  by  the  Greeks.  He  died  at  an  ad- 
vanced age,  about  467  B.  C.  He  was  so  poor  that 
the  expenses  of  his  funeral  were  defrayed  at  the  pub- 
lic charge,  and  his  two  daughters,  on  account  of  their 
father's  virtues,  received  a  dowry  from  the  public 
treasury,  when  they  came  to  marriageable  years. 

The  effect  of  so  rare  an  example  as  that  of  Aris- 
tides, was  visible  even  during  his  lifetime.  The 
Athenians  became  more  virtuous,  in  imitating  their 
great  leader.     Such  was  their  sense  of  his  good  qual- 


ARISTIDES.  263' 

ities,  that,  at  the  representation  of  one  of  the  tragedies 
of  jiEschylus,  when  the  actor  pronounced  a  sentence 
concerning  moral  goodness,  the  eyes  of  the  audience 
were  all  at  once  turned  from  the  players  to  Aristides. 
When  he  sat  as  judge,  it  is  said  that  the  plaintiff,  in 
his  accusation — in  order  to  prejudice  him  against  the 
defendant — mentioned  the  injuries  he  had  done  to 
Aristides.  "  Mention  the  wrong  you  have  received,'* 
said  the  equitable  Athenian.  "  I  sit  here  as  judge ; 
the  lawsuit  is  yours,  not  mine."  On  one  occasion, 
Themistocles  announced  to  the  people  of  Athens  that 
he  had  a  scheme  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  the  state ; 
but  it  could  not  be  mentioned  in  a  public  assembly. 
Aristides  was  appointed  to  confer  with  him.  The 
design  was  to  set  fire  to  the  combined  fleet  of  the 
Greeks,  then  lying  in  a  neighboring  port,  by  which 
means  the  Athenians  would  acquire  the  sovereignty 
of  the  seas.  Aristides  returned  to  the  people,  and 
told  them  that  nothing  could  be  more  advantageous — 
yet  nothing  more  unjust.  The  project  was  of  course 
abandoned. 

The  character  of  Aristides  is  one  of  the  finest  that 
is  handed  down  by  antiquity.  To  him  belongs  the 
rarest  of  all  praises,  that  of  observing  justice,  not  only 
between  man  and  man,  but  between  nation  and  na- 
tion. He  was  truly  a  patriot,  for  he  preferred  the 
good  of  his  country  to  his  own  ambition.  A  candid 
enemy,  an  impartial  friend,  a  just  administrator  of 
other  men's  money — an  observer  of  national  faith — he 
is  well  entitled  to  the  imperishable  monument  which  is 
erected  in  that  simple  title,  The  Just  ! 


tESOP. 

This  celebrated  inventor  of  fables  was  a  native  of 
Phrygia,  in  Asia  Minor,  and  flourished  in  the  time  of 
Solon,  about  560  B.  C.  A  life  of  him  was  written 
by  a  Greek  monk,  named  Planudes,  about  the  middle 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  which  passed  into  circula- 
tion as  a  genuine  work,  but  which  is  proved  to  have 
been  a  mere  fiction.  In  that  work,  jEsop  is  repre- 
sented as  being  hunch-backed,  and  an  object  of  dis- 
gust from  his  deformity.  There  appears  to  be  no 
foundation  whatever  for  this  story.     This  invention 


iEsop.  265 

of  the  monk,  no  doubt,  had  for  its  object,  to  give  eclat 
to  the  beauties  of  jEsop's  mind,  by  the  contrast  of 
bodily  deformity. 

Throwing  aside  the  work  of  Planudes,  we  are  left 
to  grope  in  obscurity  for  the  real  history  of  the  great 
fabulist.  After  the  most  diligent  researches,  we  can 
do  little  more  than  trace  the  leading  incidents  of  his 
life.  The  place  of  his  birth,  like  that  of  Homer,  is 
matter  of  question ;  Samos,  Sardis,  Cotioeum  in  Phry- 
gia,  and  Mesembria  in  Thrace,  laying  claim  alike  to 
that  honor.  The  early  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in 
slavery,  and  the  names  of  three  of  his  masters  have 
been  preserved :  Dinarohus,  an  Athenian,  in  whose 
service  he  is  said  to  have  acquired  a  correct  and  pure 
knowledge  of  Greek ;  Xanthus,  a  Samian,  who  fig- 
ures in  Planudes  as  a  philosopher,  in  order  that  the 
capacity  of  the  slave  may  be  set  oflT  by  the  incapacity 
of  the  master ;  and  ladmon  or  Idmon,  another  Samian, 
by  whom  he  was  enfranchised. 

He  acquired  a  high  reputation  in  Greece  for  that 
species  of  composition,  which,  after  him,  was  called 
-^sopian,  and,  in  consequence,  was  solicited  by  Croe- 
sus to  take  up  his  abode  at  the  Lydian  court.  Here 
he  is  said  to  have  met  Solon,  and  to  have  rebuked  the 
sage  for  his  uncourtly  way  of  inculcating  moral  les- 
sons. He  is  said  to  have  visited  Athens  during  the 
usurpation  of  Pisistratus,  and  to  have  then  composed 
the  fable  of  Jupiter  and  the  Frogs'^  for  the  instruction 
of  the  citizens. 


*  "The  frogs,  living  an  easy,  free  life  everywhere  among 
the  lakes  and  ponds,  assembled  together  one  day,  in  a  very 


266  jEsop. 

Being  charged  by  Croesus  with  an  embassy  to 
Delphi,  in  the  course  of  which  he  was  to  distribute  a 
sum  of  money  to  every  Delphian,  a  quarrel  arose  be- 
tween him  and  the  citizens,  in  consequence  of  which 
he  returned  the  money  to  his  patron,  alleging  that 
those  for  whom  it  was  meant  were  unworthy  of  it. 
The  disappointed  party,  in  return,  got  up  the  charge 
of  sacrilege,  upon  which  they  put  him  to  death.  A 
pestilence  which  ensued  was  attributed  to  this  crime, 
and  in  consequence  they  made  proclamation,  at  all 
the  public  assemblies  of  the  Grecian  nation,  of  their 

tumultuous  manner,  and  petitioned  Jupiter  to  let  them  have  a 
king,  who  might  inspect  their  morals,  and  make  them  live  a 
little  honester.  Jupiter,  being  at  that  time  in  pretty  good  hu- 
mor, was  pleased  to  laugh  heartily  at  their  ridiculous  request ; 
and,  throwing  a  little  log  down  into  the  pool,  cried,  '  There  is 
a  king  for  you.'  The  sudden  splash  which  this  made,  by  its 
fall  into  the  water,  at  first  terrified  them  so  exceedingly,  that 
they  were  afraid  to  come  near  it.  But,  in  a  little  time,  seeing 
it  remain  without  moving,  they  ventured,  by  degrees,  to  ap- 
proach it ;  and,  at  last,  finding  there  was  no  danger,  they 
leaped  upon  it,  and,  in  short,  treated  it  as  familiarly  as  they 
pleased. 

"  But  not  contented  with  so  insipid  a  king  as  this  was,  they 
sent  their  deputies  to  petition  again  for  another  sort  of  one ; 
for  this  they  neither  did  nor  could  like.  Upon  that  Jupiter  sent 
them  a  stork,  who,  without  any  ceremony,  fell  to  devouring 
and  eating  them  up,  one  after  another,  as  fast  as  he  could. 
Then  they  applied  themselves  privately  to  Mercury,  and  got 
him  to  speak  to  Jupiter  in  their  behalf,  that  he  would  be  so 
good  as  to  bless  them  again  with  another  king,  or  to  restore 
them  to  their  former  state.  '  No,'  says  Jove,  ^  since  it  was  their 
own  choice,  let  the  obstinate  wretches  suffer  the  punishment 
due  to  their  folly.' " 


jEsop.  ,  267 

willingness  to  make  compensation  for  -^sop's  death, 
to  any  one  who  should  appear  to  claim  it.  A  grand- 
son of  his  master,  ladmon,  at  length  claimed  and  re- 
ceived it,  no  person  more  closely  connected  with  the 
sufferer  having  appeared. 

It  is  a  question  of  some  douht,  whether  -Slsop  was 
the  inventor  of  that  species  of  fable  which  endows  the 
inferior  animals,  and  even  inanimate  objects,  with 
speech  and  reason,  and  thus,  under  the  cover  of  hu- 
morous conceit,  conveys  lessons  of  wisdom ;  and 
which,  from  their  pleasant  guise,  are  often  well  re- 
ceived where  the  plain  truth  would  be  rejected.  The 
probability  is,  that,  if  not  the  originator  of  such 
fables,  jEsop  was  the  first  who  composed  them  of 
such  point  as  to  bring  them  into  use  as  a  power- 
ful vehicle  for  the  inculcation  of  truth.  At  all 
events,  there  is  abundant  proof  that  fables,  passing 
under  his  name,  were  current  and  popular  in  Athens, 
during  the  most  brilliant  period  of  its  literary  history, 
and  not  much  more  than  a  century  after  the  death  of 
the  supposed  author.  The  drolleries  of  ^sop  are 
mentioned  by  Aristophanes  in  terms  which  lead  us  to 
suppose  that  they  were  commonly  repeated  at  con- 
vivial parties.  Socrates,  in  prison,  turned  into  verse 
'those  that  he  knew;'  and  Plato,  who  banishes  the 
fictions  of  Homer  from  his  ideal  republic,  speaks 
with  high  praise  of  the  tendency  of  those  of  -3jlsop. 

Many  of  the  fables  in  circulation  among  us,  under 
the  name  of  jEsop,  are  not  his ; — indeed,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  but  a  small  portion  of  them  can  trace  their 
origin  back  to  the  Phrygian.  A  good  fable,  as 
well  as  a  good  story,  however  it  may  originate,  is  apt 


268  jEsop. 

to  be  attributed  to  one  whose  character  it  may  suit — 
and  thus  it  happens  that  the  same  smart  sayings  are 
credited,  in  different  countries,  to  different  individu- 
als ;  and  thus,  also,  we  see  that  many  of  the  fables 
which  we  assign  to  jEsop,  are  credited,  by  the  Mo- 
hammedans, to  their  fabulist,  Lokman. 

The  value  of  fables,  as  instruments  of  instruction, 
is  attested  by  Addison,  in  the  following  words.  "  They 
were,"  says  he,  "  the  first  pieces  of  wit  that  made 
their  appearance  in  the  world ;  and  have  been  still 
highly  valued,  not  only  in  times  of  the  greatest  sim- 
plicity, but  among  the  most  polite  ages  of  mankind. 
Jotham's  fable  of  the  Trees  is  the  oldest  that  is  ex- 
tant, and  as  beautiful  as  any  which  have  been  made 
since  that  time.  Nathan's  fable  of  the  Poor  Man  and 
his  Lamb  is  likewise  more  ancient  than  any  that  is 
extant,  excepting  the  above  mentioned,  and  had  so  good 
an  effect  as  to  convey  instruction  to  the  ear  of  a  king, 
without  offending  it,  and  to  bring  the  '  man  after  God's 
own  heart '  to  a  right  sense  of  his  guilt  and  his  duty. 
We  find  -Slsop  in  the  most  distant  ages  of  Greece. 
And,  if  we  look  into  the  very  beginning  of  the  com- 
monwealth of  Rome,  we  see  a  mutiny  among  the 
common  people  appeased  by  the  fable  of  the  Belly 
and  the  Members ;  which  was  indeed  very  proper  to 
gain  the  attention  of  an  incensed  rabble,  at  a  time 
when  perhaps  they  would  have  torn  to  pieces  any 
man  who  had  preached  the  same  doctrine  to  them 
in  an  open  and  direct  manner.  As  fables  took  their 
birth  in  the  very  infancy  of  learning,  they  never  flour- 
ished more  than  when  learning  was  at  its  greatest 
height.     To  justify  this  assertion,  I  shall  put  my 


jEsop.  269 

reader  in  mind  of  Horace,  the  greatest  wit  and  critic 
in  the  Augustan  age ;  and  of  Boileau,  the  most  cor- 
rect poet  among  the  moderns ;  not  to  mention  La 
Fontaine,  who,  by  this  way  of  writing,  is  come  more 
into  vogue  than  any  other  author  of  our  times." 

"  Heading  is  to  the  mind,"  continues  the  writer, 
"  what  exercise  is  to  the  body :  as,  by  the  one,  heahh 
is  preserved,  strengthened,  and  invigorated,  by  the 
other,  virtue,  (which  is  the  health  of  the  mind,)  is  kept 
alive,  cherished  and  confirmed.  But,  as  exercise  be- 
comes tedious  and  painful  when  we  make  use  of  it  only 
as  the  means  of  health,  so  reading  is  too  apt  to  grow 
uneasy  and  burdensome,  when  we  apply  ourselves  to 
it  only  for  our  improvement  in  virtue.  For  this  rea- 
son, the  virtue  which  we  gather  from  a  fable  or  an 
allegory,  is  like  the  health  we  get  by  hunting,  as  we 
are  engaged  in  an  agreeable  pursuit  that  draws  us  on 
with  pleasure,  and  makes  us  insensible  of  the  fatigues 
that  accompany  it." 

In  modern  times,  La  Fontaine  has  given  us  an  ad- 
mirable collection  of  fables,  and  the  artist  Grandville 
has  added  a  new  charm  to  them,  by  a  very  happy 
conceit.  With  infinite  wit,  he  has  dressed  up  the 
wolves,  foxes,  and  other  animals  which  figure  in  the 
fables,  in  human  attire,  yet  so  skilfully  as  to  seem  natu- 
ral— thus  aiding  the  imagination,  in  conceiving  of  the 
actors  and  speakers  in  the  fables,  as  performing  their 
several  parts.  By  the  aid  of  his  magical  pencil,  even 
trees,  kettles  and  kegs  assume  an  appearance  of  life, 
and  seem  to  justify  the  wit  and  wisdom  which  they 
are  imagined  to  utter.  The  humor  of  these  designs  is 
inimitable ;  and  thus  not  only  is  greater  effect  given  to 


270 


JESOP. 


the  particular  fables  illustrated,  but  greater  scope, 
to  the  fable  generally.  We  are  indebted,  in  this 
country,  for  a  most  excellent  translation  of  La  Fon- 
taine, with  many  of  Grandville's  designs,  to  Profes- 
sor Wright. 


s!«f 


SOLON.    • 

Solon,  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece,  was 
born  at  Salamis,  637  B.  C.  and  educated  at  Athens. 
His  father  was  one  of  the  descendants  of  king  Codrus, 
and,  by  his  mother's  side,  he  reckoned  among  his  rela- 
tions the  celebrated  Pisistratus.  After  he  had  de- 
voted part  of  his  time  to  philosophical  and  political 
studies,  Solon  travelled  over  the  greatest  part  of 
Greece ;  but  at  his  return  home  he  was  distressed  at 
beholding  the  dissensions  among  his  countrymen. 

All  now  fixed  their  eyes  upon  him  as  a  deliverer, 
and  he  was  unanimously  elected  archon.     He  might 


272  SOLON. 

have  become  absolute,  but  he  refused  the  dangerous 
office  of  king  of  Athens,  and,  in  the  capacity  of  law- 
giver, he  began  to  make  a  reform  in  every  department 
of  the  government.  The  complaints  of  the  poorer 
citizens  fojind  redress ;  all  debts  were  remitted,  and 
no  one  was  permitted  to  seize  the  person  of  his  debtor, 
if  he  was  unable  to  make  payment.  After  he  had 
established  the  most  salutary  regulations  in  the  state, 
and  bound  the  Athenians  by  a  solemn  oath  that  they 
would  faithfully  observe  his  laws  for  the  space  of  one 
hundred  years,  Solon  resigned  the  office  of  legislator, 
and  removed  himself  from  Athens.  He  visited  Egypt, 
and  the  court  of  Croesus,"^  king  of  Lydia — celebrated 


*  Croesus  was  the  fifth  and  last  of  the  Mermadse,  who 
reigned  in  Lydia,  and  during  his  time  he  passed  for  the  richest 
of  mankind.  He  was  the  first  who  made  the  Greeks  of  Asia 
tributary  to  the  Lydians.  His  court  was  the  asylum  of  learn- 
ing ;  and  -^sop,  the  famous  fable-writer,  among  others,  lived 
under  his  patronage.  In  a  conversation  with  Solon,  Croesus 
wished  to  be  thought  the  happiest  of  mankind ;  but  the  phi- 
losopher apprized  him  of  his  mistake,  and  gave  the  preference 
to  poverty  and  domestic  virtue.  Croesus  undertook  a  war 
against  Cyrus,  the  king  of  Persia,  and  marched  to  meet  him 
with  an  army  of  420,000  men,  and  60,000  horse.  After  a 
reign  of  fourteen  years  he  was  defeated,  B.  C.  548 ;  his  capital 
was  besieged,  and  he  fell  into  the  conqueror's  hands,  who  or- 
dered him  to  be  burnt  alive.  The  pile  was  already  on  fire, 
when  Cyrus  heard  the  conquered  monarch  exclaim,  '"'  Solon  ! 
Solon!  Solon!"  with  lamentable  energy.  He  asked  him  the 
reason  of  his  exclamation,  and  Croesus  repeated  the  conversa- 
tion he  once  had  with  Solon,  on  human  happiness.  Cyrus  was 
moved  at  the  recital ;  and,  at  the  recollection  of  the  inconstancy 
of  human  aflairs,  he  ordered  Croesus  to  be  taken  from  the 


SOLON.  273 

for  his  wealth,  and  the  vanity  of  desiring  to  be  esteemed 
the  happiest  of  mankind.  He  here  declared  to  the 
monarch  that  an  Athenian,  who  had  always  seen  his 
country  flourish — who  had  virtuous  children,  and 
who  fell  in  defence  of  his  native  land,  had  a  happier 
career  than  the  proudest  emperor  on  the  globe. 

After  ten  years'  absence,  Solon  returned  to  Athens  ; 
but  he  had  the  mortification  to  find  the  greatest  part 
of  his  regulations  disregarded,  through  the  factious 
spirit  of  his  countrymen  and  the  usurpation  of  Pisis- 
tratus.  Not  to  be  longer  a  spectator  of  the  divisions 
that  reigned  in  his  country,  he  retired  to  Cyprus, 
where  he  died  at  the  court  of  king  Philocyprus,  in  the 
eightieth  year  of  his  age.  The  laws  of  Solon  became 
established  in  Athens,  and  their  salutary  consequences 
can  be  discovered  in  the  length  of  time  they  were  in 
force  in  the  republic.  For  above  four  hundred  years 
they  flourished  in  full  vigor,  and  Cicero,  who  was 
himself  a  witness  of  their  benign  influence,  passes  the 
highest  encomiums  upon  the  legislator,  whose  supe- 
rior wisdom  framed  such  a  code  of  regulations. 

It  was  the  intention  of  Solon  to  protect  the  poorer 
citizens  ;  and  by  dividing  the  whole  body  of  the  Athe- 
nians into  four  classes,  three  of  which  were  permitted 


burning  pile,  and  he  was  afterwards  one  of  his  most  intimate 
friends.  The  kingdom  of  Lydia  became  extinct  in  his  person, 
and  the  power  was  transferred  to  Persia.  Croesus  survived 
Cyrus.  The  manner  of  his  death  is  unknown.  He  is  cele- 
brated for  the  immensely  rich  presents  which  he  made  to  the 
temple  of  Delphi,  from  which  he  received  an  obscure  and  am- 
biguous oracle,  which  he  interpreted  in  his  favor,- but  which 
was  fulfilled  in  the  destruction  of  his  empire. 


274  SOLON. 

to  discharge  the  most  important  offices  and  magistra- 
cies of  the  state,  and  the  last  to  give  their  opinion  in 
the  assemblies,  but  not  have  a  share  in  the  distinc- 
tions and  honors  of  their  superiors  ;  the  legislator 
gave  the  populace  a  privilege,  which,  though  at  first 
small  and  inconsiderable,  soon  rendered  fehem  masters 
of  the  republic,  and  of  all  the  affairs  of  government. 
He  made  a  reformation  in  the  Areopagus,  increased 
the  authority  of  the  members,  and  permitted  them 
yearly  to  inquire  how  every  citizen  maintained  him- 
self, and  to  punish  such  as  lived  in  idleness,  and 
were  not  employed  in  some  honorable  and  lucrative 
profession.  He  also  regulated  the  Prytaneum,  and 
iixed  the  number  of  its  judges  to  four  hundred. 

The  sanguinary  laws  of  Draco  were  all  cancelled, 
except  that  against  murder ;  and  the  punishment  de- 
nounced against  every  offender  was  proportioned  to 
his  crime ;  but  Solon  made  no  law  against  parricide 
or  sacrilege.  The  former  of  these  crimes,  he  said, 
was  too  horrible  to  human  nature  for  a  man  to  be 
guilty  of  it,  and  the  latter  could  never  be  committed, 
because  the  history  of  Athens  had  never  furnished  a 
single  instance.  Such  as  had  died  in  the  service  of 
their  country,  were  buried  with  great  pomp,  and  their 
families  were  maintained  at  the  public  expense ;  but 
such  as  had  squandered  away  their  estates,  such  as 
refused  to  bear  arms  in  defence  of  their  country,  or 
paid  no  attention  to  the  infirmity  and  distress  of  their 
parents,  were  branded  with  infamy.  The  laws  of 
marriage  were  newly  regulated ;  it  became  an  union 
of  affection  and  tenderness,  and  no  longer  a  merce- 
nary contract.     To  speak  with  ill  language  against 


SOLON.  Vy.      jy  275 

the  dead,  as  well  as  against  the  livingyS^tg^^AhCTg  jr  zl^^ 
crime ;  for  the  legislator  wished  that  the  character  of 
his  fellow-citizens  should  be  freed  from  the  aspersions 
of  malevolence  and  envy.  A  person  that  had  no 
children  was  permitted  to  dispose  of  his  estates  as  he 
pleased ;  females  were  not  allowed  to  be  extravagant 
in  their  dress  or  expenses ;  licentiousness  was  pun- 
ished ;  and  those  accustomed  to  abandoned  society, 
were  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  addressing  the  pub- 
lic assemblies.  These  celebrated  laws  were  engraved 
on  several  tables ;  and  that  they  might  be  better 
known  and  more  familiar  to  the  Athenians,  they 
were  written  in  verse. 

If  we  consider  the  time  in  which  Solon  lived,  we 
shall  see  occasion  to  regard  him  as  a  man  of  extraor- 
dinary wisdom  and  virtue.  Nearly  all  the  systems 
of  government  around  him  were  despotic.  That  gov- 
ernment should  be  instituted  and  conducted  for  the 
benefit  of  the  governed ;  and  that  the  people  are  the 
proper  depositories  of  power — principles  recognised 
in  his  institutions — were  truths  so  deeply  hidden  from 
mankind,  as  to  demand  an  intellect  of  the  hio^hest 
order  for  their  discovery. 

Nor  are  his  virtues  and  humanity  less  conspicuous 
than  his  sagacity.  While  repealing  the  bloody  code 
of  Draco,  he  substituted  mild  and  equitable  laws  ;  he 
shunned  the  harsh  and  savage  system  of  Lycurgus, 
which  sacrificed  all  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart,  and 
the  most  refined  pleasures  of  life,  in  order  to  sustain 
the  martial  character  of  the  state ;  and  while  he 
sought  to  soften  the  manners,  he  strove  to  exalt 
the  standard  of  public  and  private  virtue,  not  only 


276 


SOLON. 


by  his  laws,  but  by  his  conversation  and  example. 
He  was  thus,  not  only  the  benefactor  of  Athens  and 
of  Greece,  but — as  one  of  the  great  instruments  of 
civilization  throughout  the  world,  and  especially  as 
one  of  the  leaders  in  the  establishment  of  free  govern- 
ment— mankind  at  large  owe  him  a  lasting  debt  of 
gratitude. 


%s 


V't'^ 


LYCURGUS. 


This  Spartan  lawgiver  is  supposed  to  have  been 
born  about  900  B.  C.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of 
king  Eunomus,  and  was  entitled  to  the  throne  upon 
the  death  of  his  brother,  Polydectes ;  but  he  relin- 
quished it  in  behalf  of  his  unborn  son,  and  adminis- 
tered the  government  in  his  name.  By  the  wisdom 
of  his  measures,  he  won  general  esteem ;  and  his 
noble  disinterestedness  raised  his  glory  to  a  height 
which  awoke  envy  against  him  in  the  minds  of  some 


278  LYCURGUS. 

of  the  most  distinguished  Spartans,  who  now  con- 
spired against  him.  Partly  to  escape  the  danger 
which  threatened  him,  and  partly  to  gratify  the  desire 
of  seeing  foreign  nations,  and  learning  their  manners, 
he  left  Sparta,  and  travelled  in  various  countries. 

After  visiting  Crete,  and  admiring  the  wise  laws 
of  Minos,  he  went  to  lona.  The  effeminate  and  lux- 
urious life  of  the  inhabitants,  and  the  feebleness  of 
their  laws,  which  formed  a  striking  contrast  with  the 
simplicity  and  vigor  of  those  of  Crete,  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  him.  Here,  however,  he  is  said  to 
have  become  acquainted  with  the  poems  of  Homer, 
which  he  collected  and  carried  to  Greece.  From 
hence  he  is  said  to  have  travelled  into  Egypt,  India, 
and  Spain ;  but  this  seems  improbable. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  two  kings  who  succeeded 
him  at  Sparta,  Archelaus  and  Charilaus,  were  es- 
teemed neither  by  the  people  nor  by  the  nobility; 
and,  as  there  were  no  laws  sufficient  to  maintain  the 
public  tranquillity,  the  confusion  passed  all  bounds. 
In  this  dangerous  situation,  Lycurgus  was  the  only 
man  from  whom  help  and  deliverance  could  be  ex- 
pected. The  people  hoped  from  him  protection  against 
the  nobles,  and  the  kings  believed  that  he  would  put 
an  end  to  the  disobedience  of  the  people.  More  than 
once,  ambassadors  were  sent  to  entreat  him  to  come 
to  the  assistance  of  the  state. 

He  long  resisted,  but  at  last  yielded  to  the  urgent 
wishes  of  his  fellow-citizens.  At  his  arrival  in  Sparta, 
he  found  that  not  only  particular  abuses  were  to  be 
suppressed,  but  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  form  an 
entirely  new  constitution.     The  confidence  which  his 


LYCURGUS.  279' 

personal  character,  his  judgment,  and  the  dangerous 
situation  of  the  state,  gave  him  among  his  fellow-cit- 
izens, encouraged  him  to  encounter  all  obstacles. 
The  first  step  which  he  took,  was  to  add  to  the  kings 
a  senate  of  twenty-eight  persons,  venerable  for  their 
age,  without  whose  consent  the  former  were  to  under- 
take nothing.  He  thus  established  a  useful  balance 
between  the  power  of  the  kings  and  the  licentiousness 
of  the  people.  The  latter  at  the  same  time  obtained 
the  privilege  of  giving  their  voice  in  public  affairs. 
They  had  not,  however,  properly  speaking,  delibera- 
tive privileges,  but  only  the  limited  right  of  accepting 
or  rejecting  what  was  proposed  by  the  kings  or  the 
senate. 

The  Spartans  conformed  in  general  to  the  institu- 
tions of  Lycurgus ;  but  the  equal  division  of  property 
which  he  effected,  excited  among  the  rich  such  violent 
commotions,  that  the  lawgiver  fled  to  the  temple,  to 
save  his  life.  On  the  way,  he  received  a  blow,  which 
struck  out  one  of  his  eyes.  He  merely  turned  round, 
and  showed  to  his  pursuers  his  face  streaming  with 
blood.  This  sight  filled  all  with  shame  and  repent- 
ance ;  they  implored  his  pardon,  and  led  him  respect- 
fully home.  The  person  who  had  done  the  deed,  a 
young  man  of  rank,  and  of  a  fiery  character,  was 
given  up  to  him.  Lycurgus  pardoned  him,  and  dis- 
missed him,  covered  with  shame. 

After  having  thus  formed  a  constitution  for  Sparta, 
Lycurgus  endeavored  to  provide  for  its  continuance. 
He  made  all  the  citizens  take  a  solemn  oath  that  they 
would  change  nothing  in  the  laws  which  he  had 
introduced,  before  his  return.     He  then  went  to  Del- 


280  LYCURGTJS. 

phi,  and  asked  the  gods  whether  the  new  laws  were 
sufficient  for  the  happiness  of  Sparta.  The  answer 
was,  "  Sparta  will  remain  the  most  prosperous  of  all 
states  as  long  as  it  observes  these  laws."  He  sent 
this  answer  to  Laced asmon,  and  left  his  country  for- 
ever. He  died  of  voluntary  starvation,  and  ordered 
his  body  to  be  burned,  and  the  ashes  scattered  in  the 
sea,  lest  they  should  be  carried  to  Sparta,  and  his 
countrymen  be  released  from  their  oath. 

Though  the  patriotism  of  Lycurgus  appears  to 
have  been  of  the  most  exalted  nature,  his  institutions 
were  exceedingly  barbarous,  in  many  respects.  He 
cherished  no  such  thing  as  family  ties,  but  required 
everything  to  yield  to  the  good  of  the  state.  The 
children  did  not  belong  to  the  parents  ;  feeble  children 
were  destroyed ;  meals  were  all  taken  in  common ; 
unmarried  men  were  punished.  Thus  the  private 
liberty  of  the  people  was  taken  away,  and  they  were 
made  slaves,  in  their  daily  habits,  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, to  that  power  which  was  called  the  state.  The 
design  of  the  lawgiver  seemed  to  be  to  rear  up  a 
nation  of  soldiers — not  for  conquest,  but  for  defence. 
He  would  not  permit  Sparta  to  be  encircled  with 
walls,  preferring  that  its  defence  should  depend  on 
the  arms  of  the  citizens.  The  men  were  wholly 
trained  for  martial  life.  Sensibility  to  suffering,  and 
the  fear  of  death,  were  treated  with  contempt.  Vic- 
tory or  death,  in  battle,  was  their  highest  glory ;  cow- 
ardice was  attended  with  the  most  deadly  shame. 

The  difference  between  the  institutions  of  Lycur- 
gus and  those  of  Solon,  may  be  seen  in  their  results. 
The  Spartans  became  a  stern  and  haughty  nation  of 


LYCURGUS. 


281 


soldiers ;  but  they  have  left  nothing  behind  but  their 
story,  to  instruct  mankind ;  while  the  Athenians,  ex- 
alted by  the  genial  breath  of  liberty,  continue  to  this 
very  hour  to  be  the  admiration  of  the  world,  for  their 
literature,  their  arts,  and  their  institutions. 


HOMER. 


The  Iliad  is  often  spoken  of  as  the  greatest  pro- 
duction of  the  human  mind  ;  yet  it  has  been  seriously 
questioned  whether  such  a  person  as  Homer  ever 
lived  !  This  paradox  is  to  be  explained  by  admitting, 
that,  although  the  Iliad  is  a  wonderful  performance  for 
the  time  and  circumstances  of  its  composition,  still,  it  is 
by  no  means  entitled  to  the  supremacy  which  scholastic 
fondness  assigns  to  it;  and  that  the  doubts  thrown 
upon  its  authorship  are  but  the  mists  engendered  in 
the  arena  of  hypercriticism. 

By  Homer,  we  mean  the  author  of  the  Iliad,  what- 
ever may  have  been  his  true  name.     The  period  at 


►"^ 


HOMER.  283 

which  he  flourished  is  matter  of  doubt,  but  it  is  fixed 
by  the  Arundelian  Marbles,^^  at  907  B.  C,  which  is 
probably  not  far  from  the  true  date.  A  great  many 
tales  are  handed  down  to  us,  in  relation  to  him,  which 
are  mere  fictions.  The  only  well  established  facts, 
in  his  life,  are  that  he  was  a  native  of  Asiatic  Greece, 
and  a  wandering  poet,  or  rhapsodist,  who  went  about 
the  country  reciting  his  compositions,  according  to 
the  custom  of  those  times.  The  story  of  his  being 
blind  is  without  authority. 

Such  are  the  meagre  facts  which  can  be  gathered 
amid  the  obscurity  of  that  remote  age  in  which  Homer 
lived.  There  is  something  painful  in  this  barren- 
ness,— and  we  almost  feel  that  the  critics,  in  exploding 
the  fond  fictions  which  antiquity  has  woven  around 
the  name  of  the  great  poet,  have  performed  an  ungra- 
cious office.  They  have  indeed  dissipated  fables,  but 
they  have  left  us  little  but  darkness  or  vacuity  in 
their  place.  Such  is  the  yearning  of  the  mind,  in 
respect  to  those  who  have  excited  its  emotions,  and 
created  an  interest  in  the  bosom,  that  it  will  cherish 
even  the  admitted  portraitures  of  fiction  and  fancy, 
rather  than  content  itself  with  the  blank  canvass  of 
nothingness.  The  heart,  as  well  as  nature,  abhors  a 
vacuum. 

*  These  Marbles  consist  of  a  large  collection  of  busts,  stat- 
ues, altars,  inscriptions,  mutilated  figures,  &cc.,  formed  by 
Thomas  Howard,  Earl  of  Arundel,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  presented  to  the  University  of  Oxford, 
by  Henry  Howard,  the  earl's  grandson.  They  were  obtained 
in  various  parts  of  Greece ;  many  are  of  great  antiquity  and 
of  great  value,  as  well  for  the  light  they  shed  upon  history  as 
upon  the  arts,  customs,  and  manners  of  past  ages. 


284  HOMER. 

The  fictitious  history  of  Homer — which,  however, 
is  of  some  antiquity,  and  has  passed  current  for  cen- 
turies— is  briefly  as  follows.  His  mother  was  named 
Critheis  :  she  was  married  to  Maeon,  king  of  Smyrna, 
and  gave  birth  to  a  child,  on  or  near  the  banks  of  the 
river  Meles,  from  which  circumstance  he  was  called 
Melesigenes.  The  mother  soon  died,  and  he  was 
brought  up  and  educated  under  the  care  of  Maeon. 
The  name  of  Homer  was  afterwards  given  to  him, 
on  account  of  his  becoming  blind. 

The  legends  proceed  in  general  to  state  that  Homer 
himself  became  a  schoolmaster  and  poet  of  great 
celebrity,  at  Smyrna,  and  remained  there  till  Mentes, 
a  foreign  merchant,  induced  him  to  travel.  That  the 
author  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  must  have  travelled 
pretty  extensively  for  those  times,  is  unquestionable ; 
for  besides  the  accurate  knowledge  of  Greece  which 
these  Avorks  display,  it  is  clear  that  the  poet  had  a 
familiar  acquaintance  with  the  islands  both  in  the 
-^gean  and  the  Ionian  seas,  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor, 
Crete,  Cyprus,  and  Egypt — which  still  bear  the  names 
he  gave  them — and  possessed  also  distinct  informa- 
tion with  respect  to  Lybia,  ^Ethiopia,  Phosnicia,  Caria 
and  Phrygia. 

In  his  travels,  as  the  legends  say.  Homer  visited 
Ithaca,  and  there  became  subject  to  a  disease  in  his 
eyes,  which  afterwards  terminated  in  total  blindness. 
From  this  island  he  is  said  to  have  gone  to  Italy,  and 
even  to  Spain ;  but  there  is  no  sign,  in  either  of  the 
two  poems,  of  his  possessing  any  definite  knowledge 
westward  of  the  Ionian  sea.  Wherever  he  went, 
Homer  recited  his  verses,  which  were  universally 


HOMER.  285 

admired,  except  at  Smyrna,  where  he  was  a  prophet 
in  his  own  country.  At  PhocsBa,  a  schoolmaster,  of 
the  name  of  Thestorides,  obtained  from  Homer  a  copy 
of  his  poetry,  and  then  sailed  to  Chios,  and  there 
recited  these  verses  as  his  own.  Homer  went  soon 
after  to  the  same  place,  and  was  rescued  by  Glaucus, 
a  goatherd,  from  the  attack  of  his  dogs,  and  brought 
by  him  to  Bolissus,  a  town  in  Chios,  where  he  resided 
a  long  time,  in  the  possession  of  wealth  and  a  splen- 
did reputation. 

According  to  Herodotus,  Homer  died  at  lo,  on  his 
way  to  Athens,  and  was  buried  near  the  sea-shore. 
Proclus  says  he  died  in  consequence  of  falling  over  a 
stone.  Plutarch  tells  a  different  story.  He  preserves 
two  responses  of  an  oracle  to  the  poet,  in  both  of 
which  he  was  cautioned  to  beware  of  the  young  men's 
riddle ;  and  relates  that  the  poet,  being  on  a  voyage 
to  Thebes,  to  attend  a  musical  or  poetical  contest  at 
the  feast  of  Saturn,  in  that  city,  landed  in  the  island 
of  lo,  and,  whilst  sitting  on  a  rock  by  the  sea-shore, 
observed  some  young  fishermen  in  a  boat.  Homer 
asked  them  if  they  had  anything,  and  the  young 
wags,  who,  having  had  no  sport,  had  been  diligently 
catching  and  killing  as  many  as  they  could,  of  certain 
personal  companions  of  a  race  not  even  yet  extinct, 
answered, — "  As  many  as  we  caught,  we  left ;  as 
many  as  we  could  not  catch,  we  carry  with  us."  The 
catastrophe  of  this  absurd  story  is,  that  Homer,  being 
utterly  unable  to  guess  the  riddle,  broke  his  heart,  out 
of  pure  vexation ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  island 
buried  him  with  great  magnificence,  and  placed  the 
following  inscription  on  his  tomb : — 


286  HOMER. 

Here  Homer,  the  divine,  in  earthly  bed, 
Poet  of  Heroes,  rests  his  sacred  head. 

The  general  theory  in  regard  to  the  poems  of 
Homer,  is  that  they  were  composed  and  recited  by 
him,  to  the  people  living  upon  the  islands  and  the 
main  land  along  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor.  At  that 
time  books  were  unknown,  and  it  is  a  question 
whether  even  the  art  of  writing  was  then  practised. 
Homer,  therefore,  published  his  poems  in  the  only 
way  he  could  do  it — by  oral  delivery.  Whether  his 
verses  were  sung,  or  only  recited,  we  cannot  deter- 
mine ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  obtained  both  fame 
and  maintenance  by  his  performances. 

So  deep  was  the  impression  made  by  the  poet,  that 
his  verses  were  learned  by  heart,  and  preserved  in 
the  memories  of  succeeding  rhapsodists  and  minstrels. 
His  reputation  was  diffused  over  all  Greece ;  and  Ly- 
curgus,  who  had  heard  of  his  compositions,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  taken  pains,  during  his  travels,  to  have 
them  written  down,  and  to  have  brought  them  in  a 
collected  form  to  Greece.  They  were,  however,  still 
in  fragments,  and  the  task  of  arranging  and  uniting 
them  was  performed  by  Pisistratus,  with  the  help  of 
the  poets  of  his  time.  In  this  way,  they  received 
nearly  the  form  they  now  possess ;  the  division  of 
each  of  the  two  epics  into  twenty-four  books,  corre- 
sponding with  the  letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet,  being 
the  work  of  the  Alexandrian  critics,  some  centuries 
after.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  although 
the  poems  of  Homer  were  thus  committed  to  writing 
in  the  time  of  Pisistratus,  they  continued  to  be  recited 
by  the  rhapsodists,  who  were  much  favored  in  Greece^ 


HOMER.  287 

and  in  this  way  alone,  for  several  centuries,  were 
popularly  known.  It  is  probable  that  in  these  reci- 
tations, there  was  a  good  deal  of  dramatic  action,  and 
that  they  possessed  something  of  the  interest  which 
belongs  to  theatrical  representation. 

The  vicissitudes  to  which  Homer's  reputation  and 
influence  have  been  subject,  deserve  notice.  From 
the  arrangement  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  in  the 
time  of  the  Pisistratidse,  to  the  promulgation  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  love  and  reverence  with  which  the  name 
of  Homer  was  regarded,  went  on  constantly  increas- 
ing, till  at  last  public  games  were  instituted  in  his 
honor,  statues  dedicated,  temples  erected,  and  sacri- 
fices offered  to  him,  as  a  divinity;  There  were  such 
temples  at  Smyrna,  Chios,  and  Alexandria ;  and,  ac- 
cording to  jElian,  the  Argives  sacrificed  to,  and  in- 
voked the  names  and  presence  of,  Apollo  and  Homer 
together. 

But  about  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  of  the 
Christian  era,  when  the  struggle  between  the  old  and 
the  new  religions  was  warm  and  active,  the  tide  turned. 
Heathenism,  says  Pope,  was  then  to  be  destroyed, 
and  Homer  appeared  to  be  the  father  of  those  fictions 
which  were  at  once  the  belief  of  the  Pagan  religion, 
and  the  objections  of  Christianity  against  it.  He 
became,  therefore,  deeply  involved  in  the  question,  not 
with  that  honor  which  had  hitherto  attended  him,  but 
as  a  criminal,  who  had  drawn  the  world  into  folly. 
These  times,  however,  are  past,  and  Homer  stands  on 
the  summit  of  the  ancient  Parnassus,  the  boast  and 
glory  of  Greece,  and  the  wonder  and  admiration  of 
mankind. 


288  HOMER. 

The  Iliad,  with  the  exception  of  the  Pentateuch  and 
some  others  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  is  the 
most  ancient  composition  known.  It  is  interesting 
not  only  as  a  splendid  poem,  but  also  on  account  of 
the  light  it  throws  upon  the  history  and  manners  of 
the  remote  ages  in  which  it  was  written.  We  are 
struck  with  the  similarity  of  the  customs  of  the  Asiatic 
Greeks  to  those  of  the  Hebrews,  as  set  forth  in  the 
Bible;  and  also  with  the  fact  that  the  Jupiter  of 
Homer  rises  to  that  unchecked  omnipotence  assigned 
to  Jehovah. 

The  design  of  the  Iliad  seems  to  be  to  set  forth  the 
revenge  which  Achilles  took  on  Agamemnon,  for  de- 
priving him  of  his  mistress,  Briseis,  while  engaged  in 
the  siege  of  Troy — with  the  long  train  of  evils  which 
followed.  The  admirers  of  Homer  have  pretended 
to  discover  in  the  work  the  most  profound  art  in  the 
construction  of  the  poem,  and  have  hence  deduced 
rules  for  the  formation  of  the  epic  poem ;  but  nothing 
is  more  clear  than  that,  in  the  simple  lines  of  Homer, 
the  poet  had  no  other  guide  than  a  profound  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature  and  human  sympathies ;  and 
that  he  only  sought  to  operate  on  these  by  telling  a 
plain  story,  in  the  most  simple,  yet  effective  manner. 
The  absence  of  all  art  is  one  of  the  chief  characteris- 
tics of  the  Iliad; — its  naturalness  is  the  great  secret 
of  its  power. 

That  this  poem  is  the  greatest  of  human  pro- 
ductions— a  point  often  assumed — is  by  no  means 
to  be  received  as  true.  It  strikes  us  with  wonder, 
when  we  consider  the  age  in  which  it  was  com- 
posed, and  we  feel  that  Homer  was  indeed  one  of  the 


HOMER.  289 

great  lights  of  the  world.  The  following  passage, 
one  of  the  finest  in  the  Iliad,  is  full  of  truth,  nature 
and  pathos — and  it  shows  that  the  heroes  of  Troy, 
nearly  three  thousand  years  ago,  had  the  same  feel- 
ings and  sympathies  as  those  which  beat  in  the 
bosoms  of  our  time ;  yet  we  can  point  to  a  great 
number  of  passages  in  modern  poems,  far,  very  far, 
superior  to  this.  The  scene  represents  Priam — who 
has  come  to  the  Greek  camp  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
deeming the  body  of  his  son  Hector — as  addressing 
the  chieftain,  Achilles : 

"Think,  0  Achilles,  semblance  of  the  gods! 
On  thy  own  father,  full  of  days  like  me, 
And  trembling  on  the  gloomy  verge  of  life: 
Some  neighbor  chief,  it  may  be,  even  now,# 
Oppresses  him,  and  there  is  none  at  hand, 
No  friend  to  succor  him  in  his  distress  ; 
Yet  doubtless,  hearing  that  Achilles  lives, 
He  still  rejoices,  hoping  day  by  day, 
That  one  day  he  shall  see  the  face  again 
Of  his  own  son  from  distant  Troy  returned. 
But  me  no  comfort  cheers,  whose  bravest  sons, 
So  late  the  flower  of  Ilium,  all  are  slain. 
When  Greece  came  hither,  I  had  fifty  sons ; 
Nineteen  were  children  of  one  bed  ;  the  rest 
Born  of  my  concubines.    A  numerous  house! 
But  fiery  Mars  hath  thinned  it.     One  I  had. 
One,  more  than  all  my  sons,  the  strength  of  Troy, 
Whom  standing  for  his  country  thou  hast  slain, — 
Hector.     His  body  to  redeem  1  come ; 
Into  Achia's  fleet  brmging  myself 
Ransom  inestimable  to  thy  tent. 
Rev'rence  the  gods,  Achilles  !  recollect 
Thy  father;  for  his  sake  compassion  show 
To  me,  more  pitiable  still,  who  draw 


290 


HOMER. 


Home  to  my  lips  (humiliation  yet 

Unseen  on  earth)  his  hand  who  slew  my  son ! 

"  So  saying,  he  awakened  in  his  soul  regret 
Of  his  own  sire ;  softly  he  placed  his  hand 
On  Priam's  hand,  and  pushed  him  gently  away. 
Remembrance  melted  both.     Rolling  before 
Achilles'  feet,  Priam  his  son  deplored, 
Wide-slaughtering  Hector,  and  Achilles  wept 
By  turns  his  father,  and  by  turns  his  friend 
Patroclus :  sounds  of  sorrow  filled  the  tent." 

Beside  the  Iliad,  another  epic,  divided  into  twenty- 
four  books,  and  entitled  the  Odyssey,  with  a  number 
of  smaller  pieces,  are  attributed  to  Homer,  and  doubtless 
upon  good  and  substantial  grounds.  The  Odyssey  is 
a  tale  of  ai^entures,  like  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  Sin- 
bad  the  Sailor,  heightened  by  an  object,  and  dignified 
by  a  moral  far  above  these  works.  It  tells  us  what 
befel  Ulysses,  in  returning  from  the  siege  of  Troy  to 
his  home  in  Greece  ;  and  is  wrought  up  with  wonder- 
ful powers  of  invention  and  fancy.  It  is  esteemed 
inferior,  on  the  whole,  to  the  Iliad,  and  an  eminent 
critic  has  said,  that,  in  the  former.  Homer  appears  like 
the  rising,  and  in  the  latter,  like  the  setting  sun. 


% 


CONFUCIUS. 

This  greatest  of  Chinese  philosophers  was  born  in 
the  petty  kingdom  of  Lu,  now  the  province  of  Shan- 
tung, in  the  year  549  B.  C. — the  same  year  that  Cyrus 


292  coNFUcnrs. 

became  king  of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  The  Chi- 
nese, in  their  embellishments  of  his  history,  tell  us 
that  his  birth  was  attended  with  heavenly  music, 
filling  the  air ;  that  two  dragons  were  seen  winding 
over  the  roof;  that  five  old  men  appeared  at  the  door, 
and  after  consulting  together,  suddenly  vanished  ;  and 
that  a  unicorn  brought  to  his  mother  a  tablet  in  his 
mouth.  It  is  also  related  that  when  he  was  born,  five 
characters  were  seen  on  his  breast,  declaring  him  to  be 
**  the  maker  of  a  rule  for  settling  the  world."  These 
and  other  marvels  are  a  part  of  the  established  biogra- 
phy of  the  philosopher,  as  received  by  the  Chinese. 

The  father  of  Confucius,  who  was  a  magistrate  of 
the  district  where  he  lived,  died  when  the  son  was 
but  three  years  old.  The  latter  was  poor  and  un- 
known during  his  youth — though  his  gravity  and 
attention  to  s^udy  attracted  the  attention  of  his  towns- 
men. When  he  approached  manhood,  he  was 
esteemed  remarkable  for  his  wisdom,  and  equal  to  the 
learned  men  of  the  country  in  his  knowledge  of  anti- 
quity. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  received  an  appointment 
as  clerk  in  the  grain  department  of  the  government; 
and  so  attentive  was  he  in  his  trust,  as,  two  years 
after,  to  be  advanced  to  the  general  supervision  of  the 
fields  and  parks,  and  the  breeding  of  cattle.  About 
this  time  he  was  married,  and  two  years  after,  his 
only  son  was  born.  Upon  this  occasion,  Lord  Chau, 
the  governor  of  Lu,  sent  him  two  carp  as  a  present ; 
and  accordingly  Confucius  named  his  son  Li,  or  Carp. 
His  humor  went  even  farther,  and  he  gave  the  boy  the 
additional  title  of  Piyii,  or  Uncle  Fish. 


CONFUCIUS.  293 

At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  Confucius  lost  his  mother, 
whom  he  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  his  father, 
who  had  been  dead  some  time.  He  then  resigned  his 
office,  that  he  might  mourn  three  years  for  his  mother, 
according  to  the  ancient  custom  of  the  country.  This 
practice  had  fallen  into  neglect,  and,  consequently,  the 
example  of  Confucius,  in  following  the  holy  custom 
of  the  fathers  of  the  country,  gained  him  great  re- 
nown for  his  piety.  His  reputation  was  thus  extended, 
and  his  example  began  to  be  followed. 

The  three  years  of  his  mourning  were  not  lost — 
for  he  then  devoted  himself  to  study.  He  diligently 
examined  the  books  of  the  old  authors,  seeking  to  dis- 
cover the  means  by  which  the  ancient  kings  and  sages 
sought  to  attain  the  perfection  of  morals.  The  result 
was,  a  conviction  that  the  social  virtues  were  best 
cultivated  by  an  observance  of  the  ancient  usages  of 
the  country ;  and  accordingly  he  resolved  to  devote 
his  life  to  them,  and  to  their  permanent  establishment 
in  China.  This  great  work  he  accomplished  ;  and  if 
we  consider  the  effect  he  has  produced  on  the  most  pop- 
ulous nation  of  the  globe,  and  during  a  space  of  nearly 
two  thousand  years,  we  shall  perceive  the  mighty 
consequence  of  his  labors.  The  actual  amount  of 
influence  he  has  exercised,  perhaps  exceeds  that  of 
any  other  human  being,  save  Aristotle  alone. 

Appearing  to  have  a  clear  view  of  his  great  work, 
Confucius  entered  upon  it  with  systematic  diligence. 
He  resolved  to  establish  schools  where  his  philosophy 
should  be  taught  to  pupils  who  would  go  forth  and 
spread  his  doctrines  through  the  empire.  He  also 
proposed  to  write  a  series  of  books,  setting  forth  liis 
views.     All  these  things  he  lived  to  accomplisk. 


294  CONFUCIUS. 

The  greater  part  of  the  life  of  Confucius  was  passed 
in  travelling,  visiting  the  courts  of  the  petty  princes, 
whose  states  then  constituted  the  empire  under  the 
sovereign  of  the  Chun  dynasty.  This  course  was,  as 
might  be  expected,  fruitless  in  reforming  these  states, 
but  it  diffused  a  general  knowledge  of  himself  and  his 
doctrines,  and  procured  him  scholars.  The  prince  of 
Tsi  was  the  first  who  invited  him  to  his  court,  and 
received  him  with  distinction.  This  potentate  heard 
him  with  pleasure,  and  applauded  his  maxims ;  but,  to 
the  chagrin  of  Confucius,  he  continued  to  live  in  lux- 
ury, and  to  allow  his  ministers  to  oppress  his  subjects 
and  abuse  their  power.  He,  however,  offered  him  for 
his  maintenance  the  revenue  of  a  considerable  city, 
which  the  philosopher  thought  proper  to  decline,  alleg- 
ing that  he  had  done  nothing  to  merit  such  a  recom- 
pense. After  sojourning  a  year  in  Tsi,  and  seeing 
that  his  discourse  produced  no  effect  to  reform  the 
abuses  and  evils  of  the  country,  he  left  it,  and  visited 
some  of  the  principal  cities  of  China. 

On  the  road  between  Tsi  and  Chin,  he  fell  into  a 
difficulty.  The  prince  of  Wu  having  attacked  Chin, 
the  lord  of  Tsu  came  to  his  relief,  and  sent  an  invita- 
tion to  Confucius  to  join  him;  but  the  other  party, 
fearing  that  he  would  do  them  a  disservice,  sent  peo- 
ple to  intercept  him.  They  surrounded  him  in  the 
wilderness,  and  would  have  starved  him  to  death,  had 
not  a  friend  come  to  his  relief,  after  a  detention  of 
seven  days.  After  this  narrow  escape,  he  returned 
home,  and  the  prince  of  Lu  gave  him  a  carriage,  two 
hoj^eS  and  a  servant,  with  which  he  set  off  for  King- 
yang,  the  capital  of  the  empire.     Here  he  passed  his 


CONFUCIUS.  295 

time  in  observing  the  forms  of  government,  the  condi- 
tion of  the  people  and  their  manners,  and  how  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  ancient  kings  were  regard- 
ed. He  held  several  interviews  with  the  ministers 
of  the  court,  was  permitted  to  visit  the  emperor's  an- 
cestral hall,  and  other  sacred  places,  and  had  access 
to  the  archives  of  the  kingdom,  from  which  he  was 
allowed  to  take  extracts. 

One  object  in  the  visit  of  Confucius  to  the  capital, 
was  to  see  Lautsz',  the  founder  of  the  Tau  sect,  or 
Rationalists,  who  lived  in  a  retired  place,  some  dis- 
tance from  court.  This  old  philosopher,  accustomed 
to  visits  from  men  of  all  ranks,  received  Confucius 
and  his  disciples  with  indifference.  He  was  reclining 
on  an  elevated  platform,  and  hearing  that  his  visitor 
had  come  to  hear  from  his  own  mouth  an  exposition 
of  his  tenets,  and  to  ask  him  about  propriety,  he 
roused  himself  to  receive  him.  "  I  have  heard  speak 
of  you,"  says  he,  *'  and  I  know  your  reputation.  I  am 
told  that  you  talk  only  of  the  ancients,  and  discourse 
only  upon  what  they  taught.  Now,  of  what  use  is  it 
to  endeavor  to  revive  the  memory  of  men  of  whom 
no  trace  remains  on  the  earth  ?  The  sage  ought  to 
interest  himself  with  the  times  in  which  he  lives,  and 
regard  present  circumstances ;  if  they  are  favorable, 
he  will  improve  them ;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  they 
are  unfavorable,  he  will  retire  and  wait  tranquilly, 
without  grieving  at  what  others  do.  He  who  pos- 
sesses a  treasure,  will  try  to  have  everybody  know 
it ;  he  will  preserve  it  against  the  day  of  need ;  this 
you  will  do  if  you  are  a  sage.  It  seems,  judging  by 
your  conduct,  that  you  have  some  ostentation  in  your 


296  CONFUCIUS. 

plans  of  instruction,  and  that  you  are  proud.  Correct 
these  faults,  and  purify  your  heart  from  all  love  of 
pleasure ;  you  will,  in  this  way,  be  much  more  useful 
than  seeking  to  know  what  the  ancients  said." 

Lautsz'  also  observed,  "A  discreet  merchant  keeps 
his  affairs  to  himself  as  if  he  knew  nothing ;  an  ex- 
cellent man,  although  highly  intelligent,  demeans 
himself  like  an  ignorant  man."  Confucius  remarked 
to  his  disciples,  "  I  have  seen  Lautsz' ;  have  I  not 
seen  something  like  a  dragon?"  On  leaving  him, 
Lautsz'  said,  "  I  have  heard  that  the  rich  dismiss 
their  friends  with  a  present,  and  the  benevolent 
send  away  people  with  a  word  of  advice;  whoever 
is  talented,  and  prying  into  everything,  will  run 
himself  into  danger,  because  he  loves  to  satirize  and 
slander  men  ;  and  he  who  wishes  to  thoroughly  un- 
derstand recondite  things  will  jeopard  his  safety, 
because  he  loves  to  publish  the  failings  of  men." 
Confucius  replied,  "  I  respectfully  receive  your  instruc- 
tions," and  thus  left  him.  Lautsz'  advice  seemed 
directed  against  a  too  inquisitive  philosophy,  and 
meddling  too  much  in  the  affairs  of  the  world ;  he 
was  rather  of  the  Budhistic  school  of  quietists,  while 
Confucius  wished  men  to  endeavor  to  make  each  other 
better. 

Confucius,  like  Aristotle  and  other  masters,  used 
to  teach  his  disciples  while  walking  with  them,  deriv- 
ing instruction  from  what  they  saw.  Once,  while 
walking  with  them  by  the  bank  of  a  stream,  he 
stopped  from  time  to  time  to  look  very  intently  at 
the  water,  until  their  attention  was  excited,  and  they 
were  induced  to  ask  him  the  reason  of  his  conduct. 


CONFUCIUS.  297 

He  replied,  "  The  running  of  water  in  its  bed  is  a  very 
simple  thing,  the  reason  of  which  everybody  knows. 
I  was,  however,  rather  making  a  comparison  in  my 
own  mind  between  the  running  of  water  and  doctrine. 
The  water,  I  reflected,  runs  unceasingly,  by  day  and 
by  night,  until  it  is  lost  in  the  bosom  of  the  mighty 
deep.  Sinco  the  days  of  Yau  and  Shun,  the  pure 
doctrine  has  uninterruptedly  descended  to  us :  let  us 
in  our  turn  transmit  it  to  those  who  come  after  us, 
that  they,  from  our  example,  may  give  it  to  their 
descendants  to  the  end  of  time.  Do  not  imitate  those 
isolated  men,  (referring  to  Lautsz',)  who  are  wise  only 
for  themselves.  To  communicate  the  knowledge  and 
virtue  we  possess,  to  others,  will  never  impoverish 
ourselves.  This  is  one  of  the  reflections  I  would 
make  upon  the  running  of  water." 

This  peripatetic  habit,  and  the  aptitude  for  drawing 
instruction  from  whatever  would  furnish  instruction, 
was  usual  with  the  philosopher,  and  he  seldom  omit- 
ted to  improve  an  occasion.  Once,  when  walking  in 
the  fields,  he  perceived  a  fowler,  who,  having  drawn 
in  his  nets,  distributed  the  birds  he  had  taken  into 
diflTerent  cages.  On  coming  up  to  him  to  ascer- 
tain what  he  had  caught,  Confucius  attentively  re- 
marked the  vain  efforts  of  the  captive  birds  to  regain 
their  liberty,  until  his  disciples  gathered  round  him, 
when  he  addressed  the  fowler, — *'  I  do  not  see  any  old 
birds  here  ;  where  have  you  put  them  ? "  "  The  old 
birds,"  said  he,  "  are  too  wary  to  be  caught ;  they  are 
on  the  look-out,  and  if  they  see  a  net  or  a  cage,  far 
from  falling  into  the  snare,  they  escape,  and  never 
return.     Those  young  ones  which  are  in  company 


298  CONFUCIUS. 

with  them,  likewise  escape,  but  such  only  as  separate 
into  a  flock  by  themselves,  and  rashly  approach,  are 
the  birds  I  catch.  If  perchance  I  catch  an  old  bird, 
it  is  because  he  follows  the  young  ones." 

*'  You  have  heard  him,"  said  Confucius,  turning  to 
his  disciples ;  "  the  words  of  this  fowler  afford  us 
matter  for  instruction.  The  young  birds  escape  the 
snare  only  when  they  keep  with  the  old  ones;  the  old 
ones  are  taken  when  they  follow  the  young.  It  is 
thus  with  mankind.  Presumption,  hardihood,  want 
of  forethought,  and  inattention  are  the  principal  rea- 
sons why  young  people  are  led  astray.  Inflated  with 
their  small  attainments,  they  have  scarcely  made  a 
commencement  in  learning,  before  they  think  they 
know  everything;  they  have  scarcely  performed  a 
few  virtuous  acts,  and  straight  they  fancy  themselves 
at  the  height  of  wisdom.  Under  this  false  impression 
they  doubt  nothing ;  they  rashly  undertake  acts  with- 
out consulting  the  aged  and  experienced,  and  thus, 
securely  following  their  own  notions,  they  are  misled, 
and  fall  into  the  first  snare  laid  for  them.  If  you  see 
an  old  man  of  sober  years  so  badly  advised  as  to  be 
taken  with  the  giddiness  of  a  youth,  attached  to  him, 
and  thinking  and  acting  with  him,  he  is  led  astray 
by  him,  and  soon  taken  in  the  same  snare.  Do  not 
forget  the  answer  of  the  fowler,  but  reflect  on  it  occa- 
sionally." 

Having  completed  his  observations  at  the  capital, 
Confucius  returned,  by  the  vsray  of  Tsi,  to  his  native 
state  of  Lu,  where  he  remained  ten  years.  His  house 
now  became  a  sort  of  lyceum,  open  to  every  one  who 
wished  to  receive  instruction.     His  manner  of  teach- 


CONFUCIUS.  299 

ing  was  to  allow  his  disciples  or  others  to  come  and 
go  when  they  pleased,  asking  his  opinion  on  such 
points,  either  in  morals,  politics,  history,  or  literature, 
as  they  wished  to  have  explained.  He  gave  them 
the  liberty  of  choosing  their  subject,  and  then  he  dis- 
coursed upon  it.  From  these  conversations  and 
detached  expressions  of  the  philosopher,  treasured  up 
by  his  disciples,  they  afterwards  composed  Lun  Yii, 
now  one  of  the  Four  Books.  Confucius,  it  is  said, 
numbered  upwards  of  three  thousand  disciples,  or 
perhaps  we  ought  to  call  them  advocates  or  hearers 
of  his  doctrine.  They  consisted  of  men  of  all  ranks 
and  ages,  who  attended  upon  him  when  their  duties 
or  inclinations  permitted,  and  who  materially  assisted 
in  diffusing  a  knowledge  of  his  tenets  over  the  whole 
country.  There  were,  however,  a  select  few,  who 
attached  themselves  to  his  person,  lived  with  him,  and 
followed  him  wherever  he  went ;  and  to  whom  he 
entrusted  the  promulgation  of  his  doctrines. 

After  several  years  of  retirement,  Confucius  was 
called  into  public  life.  The  prince  of  Lu  died,  and 
his  son,  entertaining  a  great  respect  for  the  philosopher, 
and  esteem  for  his  instructions,  invited  him  to  court, 
in  order  to  learn  his  doctrines  more  fully.  After 
becoming  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  reposing 
confidence  in  his  integrity,  the  young  ruler  committed 
the  entire  management  of  the  state  to  him ;  and  the 
activity,  courage,  and  disinterested  conduct  which  he 
exhibited  in  the  exercise  of  his  power,  soon  had  the 
happiest  effect  upon  the  country.  By  his  wise  rules 
and  the  authority  of  his  example  and  his  maxims, 
he  soon  reformed  many  vicious  practices,  and  intro- 


300  CONFUCIUS. 

duced  sobriety  and  order,  in  the  place  of  waste  and 
injustice.  He  occupied  himself  with  agriculture,  and 
regulated  the  revenue  and  the  manner  of  receiving  it ; 
so  that,  in  consequence  of  his  measures,  the  produc- 
tions of  the  state  were  increased,  the  happiness  of  the 
people  was  extended,  and  the  revenue  considerably- 
augmented. 

He  carried  his  reforms  into  every  department  of 
justice,  in  which,  soon  after  he  entered  upon  his  du- 
ties as  minister,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  exhibiting 
his  inflexibility.  One  of  the  most  powerful  nobles  of 
the  state  had  screened  himself  from  the  just  punish- 
ment due  to  his  many  crimes,  under  the  dread  of  his 
power  and  riches,  and  the  number  of  his  retainers. 
Confucius  caused  him  to  be  arrested,  and  gave  order 
for  his  trial ;  and  when  the  overwhelming  proofs 
brought  forward  had  convinced  all  of  his  guilt,  he 
condemned  him  to  lose  his  head,  and  presided  him- 
self at  the  execution.  This  wholesome  severity  struck 
a  dread  into  other  men  of  rank,  and  likewise  obtained 
the  plaudits  of  all  men  of  sense,  as  well  as  of  the 
people,  who  saw  in  the  minister  a  courageous  protec- 
tor, ready  to  defend  them  against  the  tyranny  of  men 
in  power. 

These  salutary  reforms  had  not  been  long  in  ope- 
ration, before  the  neighboring  states  took  alarm  at  the 
rising  prosperity  of  Lu ;  and  the  prince  of  Tsi,  who 
had  recently  usurped  the  throne  by  assassinating  its 
occupant,  resolved  to  ruin  the  plans  of  Confucius. 
To  this  end  he  appointed  an  envoy  to  the  young 
prince,  with  whose  character  he  was  well  acquainted, 
desiring  lo  renew  the  ancient  league  of  friendship 


CONFUCIUS.  301 

between  the  two  countries.  This  envoy  was  charged 
with  thirty-five  horses,  beautifully  caparisoned,  a  large 
number  of  curious  rarities,  and  twenty-four  of  the 
most  accomplished  courtesans  he  could  procure  in  his 
dominions.  The  scheme  succeeded ;  before  these 
seductive  damsels,  the  austere  etiquette  of  the  court 
of  Lu  soon  gave  way,  and  fetes,  comedies,  dances, 
and  concerts,  took  the  place  of  propriety  and  decorum. 
The  presence  of  the  sage  soon  became  irksome  to  his 
master,  and  he  at  last  forbid  him  to  come  into  his 
sight,  having  become  quite  charmed  with  the  fair 
enchantresses,  and  no  longer  able  to  endure  the  re- 
monstrances of  his  minister. 

Confucius,  thus  disgraced  in  his  ovv^n  country,  and 
now  at  the  age  of  fifty,  left  it,  and  retired  to  the  king- 
dom of  Wei,  where  he  remained  more  than  ten  years, 
without  seeking  to  exercise  any  public  office,  but 
principally  occupied  with  completing  his  works,  and 
instructing  his  disciples  in  his  doctrines.  During 
his  residence  in  Wei,  he  frequently  made  excursions 
into  other  states,  taking  with  him  such  of  his  disciples 
as  chose  to  accompany  him.  He  was  at  times  ap- 
plauded and  esteemed,  but  quite  as  often  was  the 
object  of  persecution  and  contempt.  More  than  once 
his  life  was  endangered.  He  compared  himself  to  a 
dog  driven  from  his  home :  "  I  have  the  fidelity  of 
that  animal,  and  I  am  treated  like  it.  But  what  mat- 
ters the  ingratitude  of  men?  They  cannot  hinder 
me  from  doing  all  the  good  that  is  appointed  me.  If 
my  precepts  are  disregarded,  1  have  the  consolation 
in  my  own  breast  of  knowing  that  I  have  faithfully- 
performed  my  duty."    He  sometimes  spoke  in  a  man- 


302  CONFUCIUS. 

ner  that  showed  his  o^vn  impression  to  be  that  Heaven 
had  conferred  on  him  a  special  commission  to  instruct 
the  world.  When  an  attempt  was  made  on  his  life, 
he  said,  "  As  Heaven  has  produced  such  a  degree  of 
virtue  in  me,  what  can  Hwantui  do  to  me?"  On 
another  occasion  of  danger,  he  said,  "  If  Heaven  means 
not  to  obliterate  this  doctrine  from  the  earth,  the  men 
of  Kwang  can  do  nothing  to  me." 

At  the  age  of  sixty-eight,  after  an  absence  of  eigh- 
teen years,  Confucius  returned  to  his  native  country, 
where  he  lived  a  life  of  retirement,  employed  in  put- 
ting the  finishing  hand  to  his  works.  In  his  sixty- 
sixth  year,  his  wife  died,  and  his  son,  Peyii,  mourned 
for  her  a  whole  year ;  but  one  day  overhearing  his 
father  say,  "Ah!  it  is  carried  too  far;"  he  dried  up 
his  tears.  Three  years  after  this,  this  son  also  died, 
leaving  a  son,  Tsz'sz',  who  afterwards  emulated  his 
grandfather's  fame  as  a  teacher,  and  became  the  au- 
thor of  the  Chung  Yung,  or  True  Medium.  The  next 
year,  Yen  Hwui,  the  favorite  disciple  of  the  sage,  died, 
whose  loss  he  bitterly  mourned,  saying,  "  Heaven  has 
destroyed  me  !  heaven  has  destroyed  me  ! "  He  had 
great  hopes  of  this  pupil,  and  had  depended  upon  him 
to  perpetuate  his  doctrines. 

An  anecdote  is  related  of  him  about  this  time  of 
life,  which  the  Chinese  regard  as  highly  creditable  to 
their  sage.  Tszkung,  one  of  his  disciples,  was  much 
surprised  one  morning  to  meet  his  master  at  the  door, 
dressed  with  much  elegance  and  nicety.  On  asking 
him  where  he  was  going,  Confucius,  with  a  sigh, 
replied,  "  I  am  going  to  court,  and  that  too,  without 
being  invited.     I  have  not  been  able  to  resist  a  feeling 


CONFUCIUS.  303 

which  possesses  me  to  make  a  last  effort  to  bring  a 
just  punishment  upon  Chin  Chen,  the  usurper  of  the 
throne  of  Tsi.  I  am  prepared  by  purification  and 
fasting,  for  this  audience,  so  that  if  I  fail,  I  shall  not 
have  to  accuse  myself."  On  presenting  himself,  he 
was  received  with  respect,  and  immediately  admitted 
to  an  audience  ;  and  the  prince  of  Lu  asked  him 
what  important  affair  had  called  him  from  his  retire- 
ment. Confucius,  replied  :  "  Sire,  that  which  I  have 
to  communicate,  alike  concerns  all  kings.  The  per- 
fidious Chin  Chen  has  imbued  his  hands  in  the  blood 
of  his  legitimate  sovereign,  Kien.  You  are  a  prince  ; 
your  state  borders  upon  Tsi ;  Kien  was  your  ally, 
and  originally  of  the  same  race  as  yourself.  Any 
one  of  these  reasons  is  sufficient  to  authorize  you  to 
declare  war  against  Chin  Chen,  and  all  of  them  com- 
bined make  it  your  duty  to  take  up  arms.  Assemble 
your  forces  and  march  to  exterminate  a  monster 
whom  the  earth  upholds  with  regret.  This  crime  is 
such  that  it  cannot  be  pardon^,  and,  in  punishing  it, 
you  will  at  once  avenge  an  outrage  against  heaven, 
from  which  every  king  derives  his  power;  against 
royalty,  which  has  been  profaned  by  this  perfidy ; 
against  a  parent,  to  whom  you  are  allied  by  ties  of 
blood,  alliance  and  friendship." 

The  prince,  convinced  of  the  criminality  of  Chin 
Chen,  applauded  the  just  indignation  which  inspired 
the  heart  of  Confucius,  but  suggested  that  before  he 
entered  upon  such  an  enterprise,  it  would  be  best  to 
confer  with  his  ministers.  "  Sire,"  said  the  philoso- 
pher, "  I  have  acquitted  myself  of  a  duty  in  laying 
this  case  before  you ;  but  it  will  be  useless  to  insist 


304  CONFUCIUS. 

upon  it  before  your  ministers,  whom  I  know  are  dis- 
inclined to  enter  into  my  views.  Reflect,  I  pray  you, 
as  a  sovereign,  upon  what  I  now  propose,  and  consult 
only  with  yourself  as  to  its  execution.  Your  servants 
are  not  sovereigns,  and  have  no  other  than  their  own 
ends  to  gain,  to  which  they  sometimes  sacrifice  the 
good  of  their  master  and  the  glory  of  the  state.  I 
have  no  other  end  in  view  than  to  support  the  cause 
of  justice  ;  and  I  conjure  you,  by  the  sacred  names  of 
justice  and  good  order,  to  go  and  exterminate  this 
miscreant  from  the  earth,  and,  by  restoring  the  throne 
of  Tsi  to  its  rightful  owner,  to  exhibit  to  the  world 
your  justice,  and  strike  a  salutary  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  all  who  may  wish  to  imitate  this  successful 
villany."  On  leaving,  the  prince  said  to  Confucius, 
"  I  will  think  seriously  on  what  you  have  said,  and,  if 
it  be  possible,  will  carry  it  into  execution." 

Towards  the  end  of  his  days,  when  he  had  com- 
pleted his  revision  of  the  Five  Classes,  he,  with  great 
solemnity,  dedicated  th%m  to  Heaven.  He  assembled 
all  his  disciples  and  led-  them  out  of  the  town  to  one 
of  the  hills  where  sacrifices  had  been  usually  offered 
for  many  years.  He  here  erected  a  table,  or  altar, 
upon  which  he  placed  the  books ;  and  then,  turning 
his  face  to  the  north,  adored  Heaven,  and  returned 
thanks  upon  his  knees,  in  a  humble  manner,  for  hav- 
ing had  life  and  strength  granted  him  to  enable  him 
to  accomplish  this  laborious  undertaking ;  he  implored 
heaven  to  grant  that  the  benefit  to  his  countrymen 
from  so  arduous  a  labor  might  not  be  small.  He  had 
prepared  himself  for  this  ceremony  by  privacy,  fasting 
and  prayer.     Chinese  pictures  of  this  scene  represent 


CONFUCIUS.  305 

the  sage  in  the  attitude  of  supplication,  and  a  pen- 
cil of  light,  or  a  rainbow,  descending  from  the  sky 
upon  the  books,  while  his  scholars  stand  around  in 
admiring  wonder. 

In  his  seventy-third  year,  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  leaning  upon  his  staff,  Confucius  tottered  about 
the  house,  singing  out, — 

"  The  great  mountain  is  broken ! 
The  strong  beam  is  thrown  down ! 
The  wise  man  is  decayed  ! " 

He  then  related  a  dream  he  had  had  the  night 
before,  to  his  pupil,  Tszkung,  which  he  regarded  as  a 
presage  of  his  own  death ;  and,  after  keeping  his  bed 
seven  days,  he  died  on  the  18th  day  of  the  second 
month,  and  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  his 
wife.  Tsz'kung  mourned  for  him  six  years  in  a  shed 
erected  by  the  side  of  his  grave,  and  then  returned 
home.  His  death  occurred  479  B.  C,  the  year  of 
the  battle  of  Platea,  in  Greece,  and  about  seven  years 
before  the  birth  of  Socrates.  Many  events  of  great 
importance  happened  during  his  life,  in  western  coun- 
tries, of  which  the  return  of  the  Jews  and  buildmg 
of  the  second  temple,  Xerxes'  invasion  of  Greece,  the 
expulsion  of  the  kings  from  Rome,  the  conquest  of 
Egypt,  and  establishment  of  the  Persian  monarchy 
in  its  fullest  extent,  were  the  most  important. 

Posthumous  honors  in  great  variety  have  been  con- 
ferred upon  Confucius.  Soon  after  his  death,  the 
prince  of  Lu  entitled  him  Ni  fuj  or  father  Ni ;  which, 
under  the  reign  of  Linti,  of  the  Han  dynasty,  197 
B.  C,  was  changed  to  Ni  kung,  or  duke  iVz,  and  his 
portrait  was  ordered  to  be  hung  up  in  the  public 

T 


306  CONFUCIUS. 

school.  By  the  emperors  of  the  Tang  dynasty  it 
was  made  sien  shing,  the  ancient  sage.  He  was 
next  styled  the  royal  preacher,  and  his  effigy  clad  in 
king's  robes,  and  a  crown  put  on  its  head.  The  Ming 
dynasty  called  him  the  most  holy  ancient  teacher, 
Kungtsz',  which  title  is  now  continued  to  him.  His 
descendants  have  continued  to  dwell  in  Shantung 
province,  and  the  heads  of  the  family  have  enjoyed 
the  ranks  of  nobility,  being  almost  the  only  hereditary 
noblemen  in  the  empire  out  of  the  imperial  kingdom. 
They  are  called  Yenshing  kung.  In  the  reign  of 
Kanghi,  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  ago,  th<?  de- 
scendants of  the  sage  numbered  eleven  thousand 
males ;  the  present  is  said  to  be  the .  seventy-fourth 
generation.  The  chief  of  the  family  is  commonly 
called  the  "  holy  duke,"  and  enjoys  all  the  honors  of 
a  prince.  Whenever  he  visits  the  court,  the  emperor 
receives  him  with  almost  the  same  respect  and  cere- 
mony as  he  does  ambassadors  from  foreign  coun- 
tries. P.  Amiot  relates  that  he  was  honored  with  a 
call  from  him,  upon  one  of  his  visits  to  court.  *'  He 
was  a  pleasant  and  modest  man,  whom  knowledge 
had  not  filled  with  conceit.  He  received,  when  he 
came  to  our  house,  some  religious  books,  which  we 
offered  him  in  exchange  for  some  Chinese  books  he 
gave  us.  His  name  was  Kung  Chauhan,  and  he 
was  of  the  seventy-first  generation,  in  direct  descent 
from  the  sage, — in  all  probability  the  oldest  family  in 
the  world  of  which  the  regular  descent  can  be  traced." 
In  the  life  of  Confucius,  written  by  Amiot,  which 
forms  one  of  the  volumes  of  the  Memoires  sur  les 
ChinoisCf  there  is  a  brief  account  of  each  of  these 


CONFUCIUS.  307 

heads  of  this  family,  with  notices  of  other  distinguished 
persons  belonging  to  the  house. 

In  every  district  in  the  empire  there  is  a  temple 
dedicated  to  Confucius,  and  his  name  is  usually  sus- 
pended in  every  school-room  in  the  land,  and  incense 
is  burnt  before  it  morning  and  evening  by  the  scholars. 
Adoration  is  paid  to  him  by  all  ranks.  In  1457, 
Jentsung,  of  the  Ning  dynasty,  set  up  a  copper  statue 
of  the  sage  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  palace,  and 
ordered  his  officers,  whenever  they  came  to  the  palace, 
to  go  to  this  room,  and  respectfully  salute  Confucius 
before  speaking  of  the  affairs  of  state,  even  if  the 
monarch  were  present.  But  this  custom  was  repre- 
sented to  another  emperor  as  tending  to  the  worship 
of  images,  like  the  Budhists ;  and  on  that  account  the 
memorialist  represented  that  simple  tablets,  inscribed 
with  the  name  of  him  who  was  worshipped,  were 
much  better.  This  advice  was  followed ;  the  statues 
of  Confucius  and  his  disciples  were  suppressed,  by 
order  of  the  emperor  Chitsung,  in  1530,  and  simple 
tablets  have  since  been  set  up  in  the  temples  erected 
to  his  name. 

The  writings  of  Confucius,  as  might  be  expected, 
are  held  in  great  veneration,  and  regarded  as  the  best 
books  in  the  language.  He  revised  all  the  ancient 
books,  containing  the  precepts  of  the  kings  and  empe- 
rors of  former  times,  and  left  them  pretty  much  as 
they  are  at  the  present  day.  He  explained  the  Yi 
King,  or  Book  of  Changes,  commented  upon  the  Li 
Ki,  or  Book  of  Rites,  and  compiled  the  Shi  King,  or 
Book  of  Odes.  He  composed  the  Shu  King,  or  Book 
of  Records,  and  the  Chun  Tsau,  or  Spring  and  Autumn 


308  CONFUCIUS. 

Annals,  so  called,  it  is  said,  because  the  commenda- 
tions contained  therein  are  life-giving,  like  spring,  and 
the  reproofs  are  life-withering,  like  autumn.  The 
books  are  collectively  called  the  Wu  King,  or  Five 
Classics.  The  Hiau  King,  or  Memoir  on  Filial  Duty ; 
the  Chung  yung,  or  True  Medium ;  the  Tai  Hioh,  or 
Superior  Lessons,  and  the  Lun  Yii,  or  Conversations 
of  Confucius,  are  all  considered  by  the  Chinese  as 
containing  the  doctrines  of  the  sage ;  the  first  one  is 
sometimes  ascribed  to  his  own  pen.  The  last  three, 
with  the  w^ork  of  Mencius,  constitute  the  Sz  Shii,  or 
Four  Books,  and  were  arranged  in  their  present  form 
by  Ching  futsz,  about  eight  hundred  years  ago. 

The  leading  features  of  the  morality  of  Confucius 
are  subordination  to  superiors,  and  kind,  upright  deal- 
ing with  our  fellow-men.  From  the  duty,  honor  and 
obedience  owed  by  a  child  to  his  parents,  he  proceeds 
to  inculcate  the  obligations  of  wives  to  their  husbands, 
of  subjects  to  their  prince,  and  of  ministers  to  their 
king,  while  he  makes  him  amenable  to  heaven. 
These  principles  are  perpetually  inculcated  in  the 
Confucian  writings,  and  are  embodied  in  solemn  cere- 
monials, and  apparently  trivial  forms  of  mere  etiquette. 
And,  probably,  it  is  this  feature  of  his  ethics  which 
has  made  him  such  a  favorite  with  all  the  governments 
of  China  for  many  centuries  past  and  at  this  day. 
These  principles  and  these  forms  are  early  instilled 
into  young  minds,  and  form  their  conscience;  the 
elucidation  and  enforcement  of  these  principles  and 
forms  is  the  business  of  students  who  aspire  to 
be  magistrates  or  statesmen;  and  it  is  no  doubt 
owing  in  great  part  to  the  force  of  these  principles  on 


CONFUCIUS.  309 

the  national  mind  and  habits,  that  China  holds  stead- 
fastly together — the  largest  associated  population  in  the 
world.  Every  one  is  interested  in  upholding  doctrines 
which  give  him  power  over  those  under  him ;  and  as 
the  instruction  of  his  own  youthful  days  has  given  him 
the  habit  of  obedience  and  respect  to  all  his  superiors, 
so  now,  when  he  is  a  superior,  he  exacts  the  same 
obedience  from  his  juniors — and  public  opinion  accords 
it  to  him.  The  observance  of  such  principles  has 
tended  to  consolidate  the  national  mind  of  China  in 
that  peculiar  uniformity  which  has  been  remarked  by 
those  who  have  known  this  people.  It  has  also  tended 
to  restrain  all  independence  of  thought,  and  keep 
even  the  most  powerful  intellects  under  an  incubus, 
which,  while  they  were  prevented  by  outward  cir- 
cumstances from  getting  at  the  knowledge  of  other 
lands,  was  too  great  for  their  unassisted  energies  to 
throw  off.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  there  have  been 
many  intellects  of  commanding  power  among  the 
Chinese ;  but  ignorance  of  the  literature  and  condition 
of  other  nations  has  led  them  to  infer  that  there  was 
nothing  worthy  of  notice  out  of  their  own  borders,  and 
to  rest  contented  with  explaining  and  enforcing  the 
maxims  of  their  sage. 

Confucius  must  be  regarded  as  a  great  man,  if 
superiority  to  the  times  in  which  one  lives  is  a  crite- 
rion of  greatness.  The  immense  influence  he  has 
exercised  over  the  minds  of  his  countrymen,  cannot, 
perhaps,  be  regarded  as  conclusive  evidence  of  his  su- 
periority; but  no  mind,  of  weak  or  ordinary  powers, 
could  have  stamped  its  own  impress  upon  other  minds 
as  he  has  done.    He  never  rose  to  those  sublime  heights 


310  CONFUCIUS. 

of  contemplation  which  Plato  attained,  nor  does  his 
mind  seem  to  have  been  of  a  very  discursive  nature. 
He  was  content  with  telling  his  disciples  how  to  act, 
and  encouraging  them  to  make  themselves  and  others 
better,  by  following  the  rules  he  gave ;  not  leading  them 
into  those  endless  disquisitions  and  speculations,  upon 
which  the  Greek  moralists  so  acutely  reasoned,  but 
which  exercised  no  power  over  the  conscience  and 
life.  The  leading  features  of  his  doctrines  have  been 
acknowledged  by  mankind  the  world  over,  and  are 
embodied  in  their  most  common  rules  of  life.  "  Do 
justly,  love  mercy,  and  walk  humbly  with  thy  God," 
is  a  direction  of  inspired  Writ;  and,  so  far  as  he  knew 
these  duties,  he  inculcated  them.  He  said  little  or 
nothing  about  spirits  or  gods,  nor  did  he  give  any 
directions  about  worshipping  them ;  but  the  veneration 
for  parents,  which  he  enforced,  was,  in  fact,  idolatrous, 
and  has  since  degenerated  into  the  grossest  idolatry. 


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